Painted
by Aprill May
Summary: [AU SM] It's the age of World War II. A simple village girl is thrown from her quiet life into one of loose morals and abuse. However, there was one person who was willing to risk it all just to see her free. Rated for themes, no lemon. Complete.
1. Coming Of Age

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Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha and any related characters. I don't own WWII, and apologize for any historical inconsistencies on my part.****

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**Painted**

I . Coming of Age 

_September 1941_

"I'm really going to miss you, ane-ue," a young Kohaku wailed, as he clung tightly to his sister's legs. 

"I'm going to miss you too, Kohaku," Sango said soothingly, patting the top of his head. "But I will be back to visit, I promise." 

He continued his tirade. "Why do you have to go! You do so much work around here! Father and Mother and I, we're going to be lost without you!" 

Sango sat down rather quickly onto the dirt around the front of their home, causing Kohaku to fall back on his bottom unexpectedly. "Listen Kohaku," Sango said in a serious voice. "I'll tell you a secret." Kohaku leaned forward in anticipation. "I don't want to go either. I don't want to put any more strain on the family, but they told me that this was a great opportunity." 

"To be trained as a geisha?" Kohaku interrupted in a sceptical tone. "I thought you didn't like all that stuff, dancing and singing and everything." 

"I don't like that stuff," Sango replied with a sigh. "But times are difficult, and if I can entertain, I can be hired out and make something of myself. If they really want me to, I will do it for them." 

She shrugged her shoulders. "Besides, it's supposed to be one of the most prestigious houses to get into, but the man who came here said that they're accepting me without an interview, which is kind of hard to believe." 

Kohaku tackled his sister with a hug. "That doesn't mean I want you to go!" 

Sango laughed and hugged him back. "I'm really going to miss you Kohaku." 

"Sango! Kohaku!" a deep voice startled them from their embrace. Both of them turned to see their parents standing in front of their home with feigned stern expressions on their faces. "Come inside, we are about to have breakfast, before we have to say goodbye to Sango." 

* * *

It was a solemn mood that greeted the family, though the two children tried their best to keep the atmosphere light, everyone anticipated what would happen after breakfast that morning. 

Once the dishes were put away and the prayers said, all members filed outside for the departure. 

"Now Sango," her mother said, trying to maintain a firm tone. "I want you to come back to visit once you've completed your training." 

"I promise Mother," Sango answered tearfully. "Of course I will. I don't even want to leave!" 

"It was a hard decision for us to send you to the city as well, Sango. As much as we need you here with us, we still thought that it was an opportunity that we could not miss. You'll receive the proper education and training, and have plenty of opportunities," she continued, hugging her daughter tightly. 

She pulled away and gazed at Sango's face one last time. "I will miss seeing you grow into a young woman." 

Sango smiled before turning to her father and bowing. When she straightened, her father was looking at her in an odd mixture of pride and sadness. He placed a hand on her shoulder. "One day, you'll become the most beautiful and well-paid geisha in all of Japan, but you'll always be our daughter." 

"Oh, Father," Sango cried, and enveloped him into a fierce hug. "I will miss you so much." 

"And me!" Kohaku exclaimed, opening his arms towards her. 

"You especially, Kohaku," Sango said with a grin, though she was crying. "I promised I'd be back remember? And when I do, you're going to be a handsome man, right?" 

"Right," Kohaku replied smartly. "But I'll miss you in between." 

The siblings held each other for a moment longer. "Kohaku," Sango whispered. "Take care of everyone for me until I get back, okay?" 

"I will, but I won't do as good of a job as you do," he protested. 

* * *

The sound of horseshoes in the dirt signalled the arrival of the carriage sent to escort Sango to the geisha house. 

A man with a pressed black suit, bowler hat and gleaming leather shoes appeared from within the carriage, and stepped down to the ground in front of the family. 

"Good day, Taijiya clan," the man said with a small bow. He was not that tall, with thick hair that rested waves just past his shoulders. "And I believe this is young Sango?" 

She stepped forward. 

"Ah, she's perfect! Just what I expected," he said in delight, his eyes travelling up and down, making Sango feel quite uncomfortable. 

"Are you sure you want to charge no fees?" Sango's mother asked worriedly. "It must be expensive, all the training and-" 

"I assure you it's not a problem," the stranger cut in politely. 

"You don't think she's too young?" her mother continued questioning. 

"At thirteen, she is of the perfect age," he answered firmly. "Enrollment has declined lately, and we desperately need to train more girls, so I looked to recruit some from the farther towns. Most families are more than willing to comply, what with the upcoming war." 

He looked meaningfully at Sango's father. "Winter is approaching, and with it the planned attack on the American navy. It is no doubt that Japan will soon be pulled into combat." 

Sango's father flinched at these words. "We are well aware of that fact. That is why we want the best for Sango." 

"I'm sure you do," the stranger answered. "And I ensure you that she will be safe and well-educated there." 

"I'm hoping she will," her father responded with a curt nod. 

"Take care of yourself, okay ane-ue?" Kohaku said quietly, running up towards her and squeezing her hand between both his own. 

For a moment, Sango could have sworn she saw a look of malice flash across the man's face as he observed them. 

He fished in his pocket and pulled out a pocket watch. Examining it briefly, he dropped it back in and motioned for Sango to follow him. 

"Well, I'm sorry I couldn't stay longer, but I believe this carriage still has more pickups to make. I'd like to thank you again, it's been a pleasure doing business with you," he voiced in gratitude. He bowed again, with a graceful tip of his hat, and gestured to Sango. 

"Come along now, dear." 

She waved goodbye to her family and mouthed 'I love you' before disappearing behind the white curtain within the carriage. 

* * *

The ride had been awkwardly silent for a while now, save for the occasional uneven road which resulted in some bumping into and polite apologies afterward. The man hadn't seemed too uncomfortable though, it was as though he was used to the unwilling company. 

"Well, Sango, I think we've been around each other long enough to strike up a conversation, don't you?" he said with a light chuckle. He held out his hand. "My name is Masuyo Naraku, an associate at the house." 

She reached out and shook his much larger hand with her small one. "Pleased to meet you, Masuyo-sama. My name is Taijiya Sango, but I think you know that already." 

He smiled, though it was more like a smirk. "Sango, that's a beautiful name. Are you excited to begin training?" 

She looked to her hands which were now folded in her lap. "Yes, I am." 

"You don't sound too excited. Do you miss your family already?" 

Sango nodded. 

"Well, I'm sorry Sango, but you won't be seeing them for a while, at least not until you finish your training and begin working," he attempted to console her. It sounded like false sympathy, as if he was mocking her. 

"And you shouldn't be so weak. If you can't handle just a few hours without them how will you handle years? To survive you must be strong, and do what you are told." 

"I know." 

She didn't want to continue this conversation anymore. She was beginning to dislike this man. 

The man began to laugh, but not in the pleasant tone that he used when he was with her family. His voice, his face, everything about him became arrogant and unnerving. 

"Is that all you have to say?" he asked in a chilling voice, eyes glinting dangerously. 

Sango nodded quickly, not looking up. 

"Look at me." 

The statement made her cease movement and suddenly the noise outside the carriage stilled. Heat rose in her back, as she raised her eyes towards his face, intense and menacing. 

"Answer me." 

Her lips parted, but no sound came out. 

His arm raised. 

"You are already not listening. You do what you are told." 

A stinging pain formed where his palm had collided with the soft skin of her cheek. "I said, answer me." 

Her face was still turned away from his, silent tears beginning to stream down her cheeks. 

"No one's going to help you now, Sango. Your family is long gone. They wanted this. You're a weak, pathetic village girl. I'm going to change that. I'm going to make you useful. And this is only the first step." 

She looked up at him again angrily, before scrambling towards the door of the carriage in a vain attempt to escape. Easily, he grabbed her by her yukata, pulled her back into the seat opposite him. 

Infuriated, he held her by the collar and backhanded her across the face. This time, she cried out. 

"Listen, you stupid wench," Naraku snarled, every word spraying her with spit. "You should be glad I'm taking you away from that Neanderthal village you call home. Forget about your worthless life before this." 

He pulled her up so that his face was nearly level with his. "I am your proprietor. Don't forget that." 

He threw her into her seat and she slumped to the side, supporting herself with both elbows. 

"I own you." 

* * *

_Painted Prologue: Coming of Age - June 13th 2004_

Masuyo - to increase the world 

The prologue takes place in September 1941, three months prior to the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbour. Sango is from a remote farming village, away from the urbanization of Japanese cities. A geisha house is usually very hard to get into, and requires interviews and large fees, which is why Sango is surprised she was accepted to one with no effort. There is a catch, however... 


	2. Corruption

_Disclaimer: I do not own any Inuyasha related characters, and 'Asthenia' by Blink 182, used pre-chapter._

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**Painted**

I. Corruption 

- 

Last night it came as a picture 

With a good reason, a warning sign 

- 

_September 1941_

Sango sat with her knees tucked to her chest and her arms curled around her. The day had long dissolved into the night and still, she could not find rest. 

Her living quarters was small, damp, and about ten feet from the main house. She looked across the room at her three roommates, their faces hidden from view as they slept. Beside her were two empty beds, something she was not used to in her primitive village. Sango had overheard earlier that the two missing from their group of six were staying in the main house tonight; something about 'clients'. 

And so she lay down on her side, still hugging herself tightly. This day seemed so unreal, and she wasn't sure if she was alive or having a nightmare. It was only this morning when her family had all been together in their small village, Kohaku begging her not to leave, her parents assuring her of a bright future, and herself hoping for the best. She had been optimistic, though a little unsure, until the moment that Naraku had struck her. 

Everything after that moment had made life in the village a distant dream. She remembered every single detail of that carriage ride up until she was dismissed to the living quarters. 

She spent the night recounting every scene, as they played back in her mind like a motion picture. 

-- 

The rest of the trip was uneventful and deadly silent. Sango had never felt so scared and helpless in her life. True, she had been raised in a rural, remote village, fending for herself and being self-reliant, but now she was truly alone, and considered the property of this despicable man. 

He had the absolute _nerve_ to speak to her again after striking her. 

"So," he began with the air of one who had just poured a cup of tea. "Let's try this again." 

Sango had been looking out the window of the carriage, and at the sound of his voice, immediately turned towards him and shrank back as far away as she could in her seat. 

His eyes narrowed. "Let's try this again, Sango dear," he repeated. 

"Yes, Masuyo-sama," she replied in a quiet voice. 

Pleased with himself, he relaxed back into his seat. "Tell me about this family whom you love so dearly." 

Sango straightened at the mention of her family and her thoughts returned to them. "I lived with my mother, father and younger brother, in a farming village. My father was a wonderful man, he used to be a warrior, a samurai, but he left when he met mother to live a more simple life. My brother Kohaku, he's about seven years old now, he wants to be a soldier too, but mother won't let him, because she was always so scared when she was courting father, and he had to go off to fight or something." She paused to reflect, oblivious to the disgusted countenance of Naraku. "She wanted him to go to school in the city, go into business, and travel..." Her words trailed off. "He asked our parents if he could come with me, but she said no." 

Naraku waved his hand through the air. "Alright, that's quite enough there, girl. One can only have so much sentiment per day." 

She snapped out her reverie and slunk back into her seat again. 

"You're quite a stupid one, you are," he commented casually. "Then again, why wouldn't you be considering your upbringing, right?" 

Sango clenched her fists and willed herself not to let any anger show through. It would only encourage him. 

She was unsuccessful. If anything, his face began to contort into a twisted grin of delight. "Proud of your family are you?" he asked incredulously. "Well, you want to know what will happen to them?" 

Her arms crossed tightly and her hands squeezed her forearms so tightly they were quivering. 

"I don't know if you've heard Sango, but there's a war approaching, one that is inevitable," Naraku said in a low voice. 

"And do you know what wars usually encompass? Tears, death, and destruction." 

She dared to stare back at him determinedly as he looked down his nose at her. 

"I was right when I said that you'd be safe with me, Sango." 

He must have been able to see her brows furrow in disbelief, because he ventured on. 

"Your family will be split apart. Your village will be abandoned. Your mother and brother? They will be sent to labour in the factories, and your father, he will be drafted into the military once again." 

Though Sango's heart yearned for her not to believe him, she knew, somehow, that he spoke the truth. 

Naraku smiled to himself in satisfaction. She was broken. 

- 

Just as Sango had begun to notice the urbanization and concluded that they were nearing the city, the two horses pulling the carriage cantered to a stop. 

They had arrived at the house in the late and slightly chilly afternoon. Naraku signalled for Sango to leave the carriage and unceremoniously had her one piece of luggage thrown beside her. 

She took a moment to take in her surroundings. There was a moderate amount of trees, but in the distance Sango could see a beautiful house, larger than anything she had ever imagined. In front was a small pond and fountain, with large sakura trees on either side. A few figures with pale, white, painted faces were walking slowly along the grounds, in brightly patterned kimono, from what Sango could distinguish in the distance. 

"Kagura!" Naraku called, as he stepped out of the carriage onto the dirt. He turned to Sango. "Follow me." 

Sango picked up her bag and proceeded to stumble across the grass behind Naraku. 

Another figure appeared at the entrance to the house, and came closer as they hurried down the steps towards Naraku. As she approached, Sango could see it was yet another decorated woman, however her face was not heavily capped in make up. 

"What is it Masuyo?" she said, slightly breathless from running across the expanse of lawn. 

"This is one of the new charges. Make sure she is dealt with accordingly," he said shortly before turning on his heel and walking purposefully back towards the carriage. He had taken a few steps before he paused and turned around. "And you will address me in a respectful manner, or you know what will happen." 

The woman called Kagura cursed under her breath before acknowledging Sango as though she had just materialized out of nowhere. 

"Your name is Sango, huh?" she asked nonchalantly. Without waiting for a reply, Kagura tipped chin up sharply. She made a few noises of deliberation before dropping Sango's chin and walking in a circular path around her. 

"Pretty, yes. Naturally clear complexion. Posture is all wrong though. Tuck those shoulders in. Stand with your chin up and back straight." 

Trying to correct all of Kagura's criticisms, Sango thought she must had looked awfully foolish the way she was standing. Kagura sighed and proclaimed that 'it would do for now.' 

She led her across the lawn towards the entrance of the house, before making a wide turn and heading around the side of the house, where a row of smaller cabins, that Sango hadn't been able to see previously, stood neatly side by side. 

"Leave your bag there," Kagura instructed, motioning towards one of the shacks. Sango complied, leaning the single burlap sack that contained all her belongings against the wooden panelling of the wall. 

While Kagura led her around to a back entrance, Sango felt compelled to ask this woman some questions, but knowing she was an underling of Naraku's made her think twice. But another, less rational part of her told her that she didn't seem as hostile as Naraku was. 

"Kagura-sama," Sango spoke up, interrupting the explanation she was giving on the room distributions. "Are you a geisha?" 

Kagura, who had been walking at a moderately fast pace, stopped instantly as the words left Sango's mouth. She simply stared at the younger girl thoughtfully. "You think you're here to become a geisha?" she asked in an amused voice. 

Sango nodded vigorously. "That's what Masuyo-sama told my parents-" 

"That's what he told your _parents_? " Kagura sputtered, in obvious disbelief. She continued speaking as if Sango wasn't there listening to her every word. "So now he's dipped to new lows in his quest to collect more young girls. But why lie directly to the parents in order to get them?" 

Her gaze focused on Sango again. "Say, you're from the village, am I correct?" 

"Yes," Sango replied. 

"As I thought," Kagura said in her thoughtful manner. "Girls from the village...they wouldn't know better. Most of our girls came from the city." 

She whipped out a fan and waved it towards herself whilst shaking her head in amusement. "Naraku, you are truly sick," she muttered under her breath. 

They walked through a corridor of what looked like a series of small, empty rooms. Inside some of the rooms, girls were folding the sheets and changing the water in flower vases. 

"Come along now, Sango, I'll have to show you where to go once your lessons begin tomorrow," Kagura said matter-of-factly. She cast a dark look at the empty rooms and the speed of her steps quickened slightly. "I'd like you out of here before the evening arrives." 

-- 

Her day would consist of manner and etiquette lessons, dance, and general labour. Sango thought that it wasn't unlike what she had been told about geisha board houses, and still couldn't decipher why Kagura was so surprised when she asked if she was one of the geisha. 

When young girls, some with perfectly painted faces and some without, began to file into the halls and critique themselves in any available reflective surface, Kagura stiffened in her position in front of Sango, and dismissed her. 

"You may go to your quarters now. I trust that you remember where it is. You'd better get some rest for tomorrow. Clients will be arriving soon." 

"But shouldn't I be here to watch? Just to see what it's like?" Sango inquired. She felt no fear towards this woman. 

Kagura looked as though she was holding back laughter. "You will see what it is like in time. Go get some rest." She patted her on the head before turning Sango around by the shoulders and nudging her in the direction of the exit. 

-- 

Sango rolled on to her back on her cot, listening hard for any sound, any hint, that would reveal to her what was occurring in the main house. It was hard enough being trained for a job that she knew virtually nothing about, but Kagura seemed to know more about her circumstances than she let on and was even more so unwilling to let her discover them. 

She had not even considered making acquaintance with any of her roommates or other girls, but she would have to do so in order to learn. Some had given her strange looks, but most had been sympathetic and even depressed. Even with the little knowledge Sango had of the geisha, she had always thought that their profession was a proud one. That was what she was here for, right? Unless Naraku had lied and this whole ordeal was a result of his ploy to abduct a young village girl from her family to do...what exactly? 

She only willed herself to believe that she was truly training to become a great geisha, because she saw no reason for Naraku to have any other use for her, aside from this one. She failed to see that she was young, she grew up far away from the city in a rural area, and that she did not know the dangers. 

The other girls knew this, and could only feel sorry for her. 

-- 

The next day Sango was awoken quite early; the sun was at a midpoint in rising, and it was not that bright outside, save for a few weak rays of sunlight breaking through the clouds. 

Knocks sounded along the doors, and a monotonous voice repeated orders to wake up and report to duties. 

Curious, Sango padded through the space between the beds and peered out the door. A small girl, who looked about Sango's age, was now knocking on the door of the cabin at the end of the row. She was extremely pale, with hair to match, and seemed devoid of emotion. 

After the pandemonium that accompanied showers and freshening up, Sango was now waiting patiently with a small group of girls in one of the larger house rooms. She observed that they varied in age, and size, but they all had one thing in common: they looked scared as hell. 

A door to their right slid open and Kagura entered, her fan sitting snugly under her obi. She regarded them all. 

"New girls?" she asked. They all nodded unsurely. 

"You all looked scared, and I don't blame you. You've left your homes, some voluntarily, some not, been thrown into a completely different life, and are being forced to learn so many things in a limited amount of time." 

She paused to survey their expressions. 

"I am Kagura, the associate should Naraku - I mean, Masuyo be away on business, as he sometimes is. Although I have part in running this place, I do work here as well, on request of Masuyo. You will learn to entertain men. This includes, manners, etiquette, dance, conversation, among other things. You are being paid to be good company. Do you understand?" 

"Yes," the group chorused. 

"Very well. This morning, we will begin with-" 

"Wait," Sango spoke up nervously. "You never said we are being trained to become geisha? Don't we have ranks, and other things we should know?" 

For the second time, Kagura gave her a penetrating stare, but this time Sango could almost detect sympathy underneath the visible annoyance. "Now is not the time to learn about that," Kagura replied. "We have other things to concern ourselves with now." 

Most of the morning was spent correcting postures. 

-- 

Sango now had a block of free time, in which she chose to stay within her shack and organize her belongings. The morning hadn't been that bad; Kagura basically taught them how to walk daintily and exercise proper manners, things she mostly knew about already, and had been quick to pick up on. Still, she had the ominous feeling that whatever she wasn't being told about this place was something base, or even dangerous. 

Her thoughts were interrupted as rustle sounded from the doorway. She turned around from her spot on the bed to see another young girl staring back at her. She looked a year or two older than Sango. 

"Hi," she said shyly, with a quick bow. 

"Hi," Sango replied, with as much enthusiasm as she could muster. Hopefully she could make friends with this girl. "I'm Sango, what's your name?" 

"My birth name? Or my _Yujo_ name?" the girl returned. 

Sango was puzzled. "Your birth name, I suppose. Why would you have two?" 

"Oh, I almost forgot you were new," the girl said with a laugh. "My name from birth is Kagome, but here they call me Akemi. They'll be changing yours soon, I think." 

"Why would they be changing it?" Sango asked before she could stop herself. 

Kagome sat down on the bed next to Sango's. "They give you new names here when you arrive. Masuyo-sama is usually the one who chooses them." 

Sango was now full of questions. "I still don't understand." 

Kagome looked thoughtful. "Well, some people got to keep their names. Basically, I think they want your names to be memorable and elegant sounding. I don't know where they got Akemi though." 

"What does it mean?" 

"Bright, beautiful. Something like that." Kagome said with a shrug. "The full name is Akemi Ren, so all together it's something like beautiful water lily. Too corny for me. I prefer Kagome." 

Sango absorbed all this information. "How did you end up here?" 

"I got lost. Wandered away from my parents. Masuyo-sama found me and brought me here when I was young, about nine or ten. I haven't known another life since." 

Seeing how explaining that had made Kagome a tinge sad, Sango quickly looked to change the subject. 

"What did you say you were, a _Yujo_? Is that your rank?" said Sango, remembering Kagome's earlier quip. 

"You could say that," Kagome answered with a dark look. "We're all made to do the same thing anyway." 

"I'm sorry, I don't understand again." 

Kagome studied Sango's innocent, curious face. "Sango, why were you taken here?" 

Sango's head drooped to the side at the question, and rested against the flat side of her fist. "My family is from a farming village on the outskirts of Kyoto. Masuyo-sama, he came to my home one day to speak with my parents. He said that he was looking to bring more girls to the city to train as entertainers, or geisha." 

She checked to see if Kagome was still interested before continuing. 

"Anyway, he said he would take me without fees or an interview, and I would be brought to the city, trained, and eventually put to work. Because we were poor, and there was war approaching, my parents thought it would be the best thing for me." She looked away. 

Kagome looked slightly intrigued. "I'm sorry for you Sango, I take it you miss your family a great deal?" Sango nodded slowly, still looking into a corner of the room. 

"And Masuyo, he-" 

"Did he strike you?" Kagome cut in. 

"Yes," Sango whispered. 

Kagome sighed deeply. "Listen to me Sango, there are things that you don't know about this place that you haven't been told, and I'm not sure if they will tell you or not." 

Sango's brows quirked in confusion. "I know there's something that they're hiding from me, but-" 

"Sango, we are not geisha. Nor are we in training to be one. From where we are now, we'll never become one." Her fingers fiddled with one another as she spoke. 

"What are you saying?" Sango returned, gripping the sides of the thin mattress tightly. 

"We may imitate their practices, but in the end, we are only sold for-" 

"Akemi, Sango," a quiet voice interrupted from the doorway. "Prepare for the evening. Masuyo-sama is returning." 

The small girl speaking to them wore a stark white kimono, and two white lilies on either side of her temples, tucked into the mass of white hair that hung to her shoulders. 

Kagome immediately stood and bowed before the smaller girl, not giving Sango a second glance as she scurried out the door. 

The pale girl remained at the doorway and continued to speak to Sango. "You will be named tonight, I believe. Please make yourself presentable." 

Sango stood and stared at the chalk complected face of the girl. "Excuse me, but I haven't been introduced to you yet." 

Her empty black eyes continued to bore into Sango's large brown ones. 

"I am Kanna. You will ask nothing more." 

With a sway of white fabric she was gone. 

-- 

All of the girls that were gathered in the room were wearing what seemed like the most formal kimono they owned, save for Sango, who felt extremely out of place in her modestly patterned one, which was given to her by her mother, though other girls also sported similar outfits. 

Kagura ascended to the front of the room, her hair intricately twisted and adorned with many jewels and ornaments. The colours and designs of her kimono were elaborate, and her obi was twisted and sculpted about her waist, resting in a ornate knot on her hipbone. 

Naraku had been seated until now, hidden from view. He stood, arrogant and majestic, and took his place before all the girls. 

Kagura motioned for them to stand. "Remain quiet, unless you are spoken to," she said in a low voice. 

Naraku walked pretentiously by the row of girls, scrutinizing each nervous face carefully. He stopped once he had reached the end of the row, his eyes sparking in recognition and cruel delight. 

"Your name?" 

"Sango," she said shortly, shooting him an equally hateful glare. 

"Ah, I remember you," Naraku exclaimed with a mocking clap of his hands. "From the farming village. The first one to actually put up some semblance of a fight." 

She said nothing to this. 

"So, you are still resistant? Why? You're here forever. You're mine," he sang gleefully, tapping her chin with his finger. 

"Don't touch me." Sango whispered. 

"What was that?" Naraku said in a dangerous tone. "What happened the last time you spoke out of line? Do you remember?" 

There was a rush of jingling as Kagura rushed towards the pair, but he stopped her advance with an open palm. "Stay away, Kagura," he warned. 

"Your name is now Emi Izumi, fountain of beauty. Bear in mind that I'm being lenient with you, because you are really nothing but an spiteful bitch." 

All reason, all fear left her and she struck him. In that one collision, she attempted to express all the anger, hurt, and degradation he made her feel, hitting him across the face. 

His face remained turned to the side, and a bright red patch was now forming nicely along his cheek. 

He regarded her with superiority and disgust, and Sango was momentarily satisfied with her actions; she wanted him to hate her. The other girls looked on in silent shock, though neither of the two noticed. 

"Your fiery temper will be your undoing," he drawled lazily as he ran a finger down her cheek. He fisted his hands in hair tightly. "But I must say, you are the first to strike me back." 

He continued to pull at her hair, forcing her to her knees. "I shouldn't have to keep on reminding you that you are my property, and you show me respect at all times." He kicked her in the stomach, and Sango lurched forward, but Naraku jerked her head back up by her hair. 

"I should hope that this time I made it extra clear what I expect of you," he continued in a silky voice, leaning close to her ear. "Because if this happens again, I will not be so understanding." 

He dropped her hair and slapped her, a soft thump sounding on the ground where Sango collapsed, heaving. "Let that serve as an example to the rest of you," he warned, as he stepped over Sango as if she were something incredibly nasty and stood in front of the next girl. 

"And, your name is?" he asked with a wicked smile. 

-- 

Sango had buried her head deep underneath her pillow when she felt a soft tapping on her shoulder. She stiffened, thinking the worst, and was relieved to see Kagome looking down at her worriedly, holding a small lantern. 

"I heard about what happened tonight," Kagome whispered, squatting down on the floor next to Sango's bed. "Are you okay?" 

Sango duly noted the pale white makeup covering Kagome's face, and the deep red colouring on her lips. 

"I think." 

"Well, don't let that bring you down, alright? I've been beaten before, and I still do, if I don't please our customers, or act out of turn." 

Sango's eyes narrowed. "Did you come from the main house?" 

Kagome looked confused. "Yes, but why-" 

"What did you do in there?" Sango demanded. 

"Well," the girl opposite her began. "I had clients and-" 

"I understand now," Sango's sharp voice interrupted. 

"Sango," Kagome sighed in dismay. 

"I was sold to Naraku as a prostitute." 

-- 

Kagome tried her best to get a few words out of Sango after the revelation, but was unsuccessful. She shut herself off to Kagome, lying on her bed, face hidden by hair, like a fallen tree. She left to wash off her face paint, and tried again when she returned, but to no avail. 

Kagome lay down on her own bed, slightly worried over the condition of her new friend. If she was this distraught over the news, she would be in for another punishment the next evening, for she had overheard Naraku speaking to Kanna on her way back to her quarters. 

_"I take it that the new girls are prepared?"_

_"Kagura had given them basic training this morning, Masuyo-sama."_

_"Then their virginity will be sold tomorrow evening. We will start with that wench, what was the name I gave her?"_

All new charges were to be displayed to bidders tomorrow. Naraku had voiced his decision that Sango would be the first one offered, and for the highest price she would bring. 

Her face would be painted for the first time. 

* * *

_Painted I: Corruption_ - _June 20th 2004_

Geisha - woman of the arts 

Yujo - prostitute 

I know I'm taking liberties with culture here. I was doing some reading up on the geisha-prostitute situation around WWII times, and I didn't want to confuse readers by putting in too many terms that even I, myself could not explain clearly. I do want to emphasize the fact that geisha were not prostitutes, but the concept behind that did come from the WWII times. 

As always, apologies for any culture/historical butchering happening. 

I'd like to thank **firebird5, randomgemini07, Nikkler, Demon Exterminator Barbie, tina, **and **Lady Sango 7**, for reviewing the prologue of this story. Thank you for all your support. 


	3. By Chance

_Disclaimer: I do not own any Inuyasha related characters, or the song 'Asthenia' by Blink 182, used pre-chapter.

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**Painted**

II. By Chance 

- 

This place is void of all passion 

If you can imagine, it's easy if you try 

- 

_Decem__ber 1941_

"You know what is expected of you, correct?" Kagura asked, as she delicately coloured Sango's face with thick, even strokes of the brush. 

"Yes," Sango breathed, trying to refrain from moving even the slightest bit. 

Inside, Kagura's heart ached for the young girls whom she had prepared for this night. She had managed to buy them two months time, but she didn't know if it would be enough. 

She finished coating Sango's lips scarlet and setting her hair in place with a jewelled pin. 

"You are ready." 

The young girl's eyes were downcast at Kagura's proclamation. 

"I'm not," she said quietly. 

"Sango, I'm sorry but I've bought you all the time I could," Kagura reasoned, not wanting to hear about this subject any more. 

"Do you honestly think that anyone my age is really prepared for this?" Sango asked in an eerily calm tone. 

"Listen," Kagura snapped. "I know this wasn't your choice but it wasn't for most, if not all the girls here. That goes for me as well. If you haven't noticed, Naraku is a despicable man, and I had the joy of living through a wonderful childhood with him." 

"Sorry." 

The older woman sighed. "Sango, you know what's going to happen if you displease Naraku, I don't know how you can keep it up." 

"I just- I just don't want him to give him the satisfaction of destroying me. I swear it's his vow to do so, and he can take away my family, my life, my dignity, so as long as he doesn't have...me." 

Without a further word, she exited the room. 

-- 

It had been two months since that fateful morning in September, when so many things had changed. 

Naraku hated her, and he often told her so after she was writhing in pain after showing him disrespect. For some reason, she still defied him, just so that he never got the satisfaction of knowing that he had successfully beat her into submission mentally. 

She continued to work, learn, and meet other girls in her position. Kagome still served as her closest friend, and their favourite topic of conversation was always what they would do if they were free. 

Kagome was a couple of years older than her, at fifteen, and despite being sold into sexual immorality, she still maintained a bright and sunny attitude, caring for Sango as a younger sister. 

It hurt her that she had to witness Sango be forced through the same thing that she was a few years ago. 

"Are you feeling okay?" Kagome asked, squeezing Sango's shoulders reassuringly. "You look beautiful, you know." 

Sango managed a tiny smile. "I'm okay. After all, Kagura has been preparing us for this the past few months. Can anyone really be ready for this?" 

Kagome was impressed at Sango's fortitude. "I wish I was as strong as you, Sango. When it was my time, I was crying and resisting, and I got lashes for it. But here you are, talking about it as if it's nothing to you." 

"Really, Kagome, you have nothing to be impressed with." In truth, Sango's stomach was twisting and turning inside her, and her leg wouldn't stop jittering underneath the layers of fabric wrapped around her. 

"Don't worry Sango, others have been worse than what you are now," Kagome assured her, now wrapping a length of fabric around Sango's waist. "Listen, all you have to do is get through tonight, and it will get easier in time, I promise." 

Sango couldn't help but feel disgusted with herself. She was to be sold tonight, and defiled. Was she supposed to be happy? Was this a cause for celebration? Hardly. Tonight would mark the first in her new life as a whore. 

Kagome was tying the obi carefully when Sango's voice startled her out of her concentration. "Sorry," she said dully. "But why waste the time making it all formal? It's coming off anyway." Kagome sighed as she pulled out the end of the obi and tucked it underneath a fold. "So what if it comes off? Sango, I know this is hard, but I've been through it before, and I want you to get through it too. You're strong, remember?" 

"Obviously I have no choice, right?" 

The girl opposite her bit her lip. "Well-" 

"Thought so." 

Kagome opened her mouth to say something more, but Sango continued before she had a chance. "As a little girl, I always wondered what was beyond the village. I thought I would spend my whole life there, until I died. Now look at me. Nearing fourteen and mere hours away from becoming consummated as a whore and slave. " 

Kagome remained silent as she finished arranging the bow of Sango's obi, patting her waist softly signalling she had completed her task. 

"I wonder if I should even bother asking why the bow is in front," Sango commented. 

When she stood and smoothed the fabric of her kimono, Kagome couldn't help but feel that Sango, a girl that had been forced to age must faster than her thirteen years, did not deserve what she would have to go through for a long time to come. 

-- 

The trinkets swinging from Sango's hair make clinking noises as they collided. Though not as decorated as Kagura, there had been so much effort to make sure the girls were primped and pretty that Sango could not help but feel beautiful for a split second between the waves of dread. 

The group filed slowly into the main room, and arranged themselves; tallest stood in back, shortest sat daintily on the floor, medium height kneeled. In fulfilment of Sango's worst fear, three oily, overweight men were already waiting in chairs. 

Of course, Naraku was there, overseeing the entire ordeal. "First customers of the night are always luckiest," he addressed them. "Naturally, you get first pick." 

The three men nodded, already having been in deliberation as soon as the girls had entered the room. 

"In addition to our regulars, " Naraku continued, in his slimy, persuading voice. "We are breaking in our new charges. All untouched. Virgins." 

The men perked up in delight at his words. "And might I suggest," Naraku added mildly. "Our fountain of beauty, Emi Izumi, sitting at the end of the front row. She has been most, _impatient_ for her first companion." 

Sango, taking a little moment longer to acknowledge that Naraku had made reference to her, raised her head to survey the men, her mouth in a thin smile. She shot a quick glare in Naraku's direction before fixing her stare on a spot on the wall to the left. 

"As much as I trust your judgement, Masuyo-san," one of the greasy men began jovially, I'm afraid I'm going to have to take one of the regulars." 

"Oh that is quite alright," Naraku laughed, waving his hand. "And you, sir?" 

"Well, the offer of pure maidens is quite a temptation, I might have to take you up on it," the other man decided. 

"Wonderful!" Naraku exclaimed. "Which one do you so desire?" 

The man pointed to one of the taller girls, standing, and she immediately walked over to him and bowed politely. 

"Kanna will just see you to a room there," Naraku said to the pair. "Enjoy!" 

The third man chose a regular, and was escorted by Kanna down the corridor of rooms Sango remembered seeing every day. 

The night continued, more men filing in, pairing off, some even taking two girls, and being led to the rooms. 

"Shame," Naraku commented in between clients. "Even men looking for whores reject you." 

Sango didn't quite care, really. If she could have Naraku's taunts in place of the vile act, she'd take his verbal abuse any day. 

Finally, when business seemed to pick up once more, a fat, lumbering, oily man graced the entrance, rubbing his hands together in anticipation. 

"I see we're doing away with the virgins now, eh Masuyo?" the man stated. Evidently, this man was a constant visitor. 

"And how are we today, Mukotsu-san?" Naraku inquired, patting the larger man's back, and wiping it off on his pants when he wasn't looking. 

"Fine, did a lot of tax collecting today. I brought a lot of the money with me, just for this," the man said back, as he surveyed the remaining girls. "You wouldn't believe how much budgeting is going to have to be done. The emperor's advisers are looking to increase military funds, before attacking the Americans." The tax collector shook his head. "I was supposed to come earlier, but I had to recount the taxes, after I had taken out my _pay_, so to speak." Both men laughed. 

Sango tensed as the man's bulging eyes passed over her, the rest of the girls, and returned. "What do you make of this one?" Mukotsu called to Naraku, who walked over quickly. 

His eyes lit in delight. "Ah, that would be Emi. You are quite lucky, she's been overlooked until now. Stand Emi, bow to Mukotsu here." 

With gritted teeth, Sango stood and bowed slightly, trying to look as unattractive as possible. 

"Cute," Mukotsu said, circling her like a vulture. He laid a grubby hand on her rear, and she flinched. "Decent." 

He turned to Naraku and deposited a roll of notes in his hand. "I'll take this one," he said, almost excitedly. 

"Excellent choice," Naraku returned. "However, see to it that she does not leave until you feel satisfied. I would want our customers to keep coming back for more! Also, we also have a policy of mending broken merchandise." 

"Such a man of honour," Mukotsu complimented, latching onto Sango's wrist. "Now come along, girl, I've definitely earned this." 

Sango looked back as she was pulled down the hall, only to see Naraku waving mockingly at her. 

"Your room, sir," Kanna indicated in her quiet voice before walking down to the end of the corridor. 

"Our room it is," Mukotsu squealed ecstatically, almost pushing Sango through the open door and sliding it shut soundly, the sound of the lock clinking making her tense. 

"So," he began, once again rubbing his hands together. "A virgin. Do you need me to start, or would you like to experiment for yourself?" 

Sango turned around to look at her customer, and froze. He was rich, overweight, and eyeing her up and down whilst greedily licking his lips. 

He beckoned her over closer to where he was sitting on the bed. When she made no motions of moving, he reached over and tugged at her kimono with one large hand, pulling her nearer. 

Frowning, he yanked at the thick fabric of her obi and the bow collapsed, leaving it free to be unravelled, which is what her charge was currently doing impatiently. The reality of the situation struck her like lightning. 

No matter what the repercussions, the circumstances, she would not be taken this way. 

Her obi had fallen to the ground softly and Mukotsu had now, none too carefully, done away with the decorated kimono she wore. 

She now stood, still clothed in her white inner kimono. Letting out a grunt of frustration, he undid that knot too and pulled it open. 

That is when she started to visibly resist. 

His hand laid on bare skin and she flinched. Instantly, she backed away. 

"Now what do you think you're doing, girl?" his thick voice filling the room. 

Sango wrapped the thin fabric tightly around her. "I won't let your filthy hands touch me," she snapped. 

"The hell they won't," he shot back, standing. Sango looked around her, even though she knew she was trapped in a corner. What could she do? They were being loud enough. If she screamed, Naraku would hear, and she would for sure be punished. 

He was too close to her now, she could smell his stench, as he placed his disgusting hands on her once again. 

"This is your job, bitch," he snarled into her ear. He held the bottom of her face roughly and attempted to kiss her, though she kept her mouth shut tightly. 

"Open your mouth!" he demanded. The look in her eyes refused as he began to force her mouth open with his hand, but as he did, she bit down with as much force as she could muster. 

Mukotsu wrenched his hand away from her, and cried out in pain. "Bitch!" he roared. 

Immediately, footsteps sounded outside the door and adrenaline rose in Sango's blood. Taking her chance, she threw all her weight against the thin screen beside her and her small frame crashed through. 

Kagura looked up from where she had been folding sheets and saw Sango. 

Not wasting time, Sango turned to the back door and fled, flipping over the balcony and landing hard on the dirt. 

'Brave,' Kagura thought fondly, as she watched her run through the trees. 

The night was cold, and her feet were bare. The winter season had already washed over Japan, and to her dismay, the ground was coated in a thin layer of snow. 

She could hear yells behind her, and she did the only thing she could do now. 

Run. 

-- 

"Are you sure you don't mind the cold?" the elder monk asked his companion. 

"Nope, not at all," the younger boy replied. "To me, it's the same as always. Another day of alms collecting." 

"A few more hours, and we'll head back to the temple. How about that?" 

There was silence, except for their footsteps grinding into the gravel on the path. 

"You know Mushin-sama," the boy began. "Is it true that there's a brothel around here?" 

"Don't even start with that Miroku," his guardian said sternly. "You're barely what, fifteen? Not to mention that your training to be a monk. Get your mind out of the gutter." 

"I was merely commenting on a rumour I heard," Miroku answered calmly. "Think nothing of it." 

"I don't think there will be anymore people passing by," Miroku remarked. "It's getting really late. It's also kind of cold." 

"Well, you never know, I'm thinking about five minutes more." 

He had taken to looking at the path ahead of him, when a blur of white and brown flew out from the trees to his left. 

It appeared to be a person, a girl nonetheless, her long brown hair hanging down to the ground where she had collapsed on her hands and knees, gasping for air. 

"Hey, are you alright?" Miroku called out to her, his footsteps quickening. 

Her head immediately shot up, and she stared at the older man and young boy before her. "Can you hear me? Are you okay?" 

He kneeled next to her, and extended his hand to rest on her shoulder, but as soon as he reached towards her, she backed away, shivering from the cold, and wrapped her clothing firmly around her. 

He regarded her and noted everything from the smudged face paint on her face and robe, to her dirt stained feet and legs, scratched and wet from running through the trees. 

"You must be cold, not to mention wet," he stated, taking off his own heavy robe and draping it over her trembling form. She merely looked at him, slightly confused. 

Mushin stepped towards her. "Are you lost? Are you from the city?" 

The girl just shook her head. 

Miroku moved a little back from her, seeing as she was eyeing him strangely. "Hey," he said gently. "I'm not going to hurt you, me and Mushin here, we're monks. Well, I'm not yet, but I'm going to be. Anyway, my name is Miroku, what's yours?" 

Her mouth moved, and an indistinguishable sound came out. 

"Sorry, I didn't quite catch that." 

Her mouth opened again, and this time, he barely caught her breathless whisper. 

"Sango." 

"Sango. That's a beautiful name. Now, how can I help you?" 

Something flashed in her eyes. "Why would you want to help me?" 

"I just like helping people." 

He continued to smile at her, hoping she would become less hostile, but when he noticed her eyes grow wide in fear, he looked behind him to see a fine horse-drawn carriage, complete with pokerfaced driver, approaching. 

The horses cantered to a stop just behind Mushin, and the door swung open, revealing a tall, neatly dressed man 

"Ah, I see you two have found my missing charge," the man said in a honeyed tone, his eyes resting on Sango, dirty and bruised, clinging to Miroku's robe. 

"You look terrible dear. Let's go back and get you cleaned up." 

The man straightened and noted the two new figures who had stumbled upon Sango. 

"I am Masuyo Naraku, and I own a business from which this girl here has seemingly become lost." 

"She's yours?" Mushin clarified. "Well, I guess that's all in order." 

"Then I'll just be taking her back then, I apologize for any trouble she's caused," Naraku said, moving towards her. He held out his hands. "Come along now." 

She made no move towards him. Instead she backed farther away, a little behind Miroku. 

"Wait a minute," Miroku interrupted, his eyes narrowing. "She doesn't seem to want to go with you." 

Naraku's eyes flashed, despite his plastered on smile. "Don't misunderstand, young man. She works for me, she's lost, and I'm taking her back to her home. Now please, move aside." 

"What kind of business is this?" Miroku shot back. 

His voice was tinged with annoyance. "I don't believe that is any of your concern. I have enough to deal with. Sango! Let's go." 

Before Naraku could register what he did, Miroku twisted around and held Sango by the shoulders. 

"What is he to you?" he whispered harshly, willing her to speak. 

Her lower lip began to tremble again, and she spoke, her voice breathless and scared. 

"Don't. Don't try and help me." 

"Why? What did he do to you?" 

"Stop. I don't want him to hurt you too." 

It was too late. Naraku had already reached them and now loomed over Miroku. He seized him by his sleeve and unceremoniously pulled him away, dropping him on his back in the dirt. 

Mushin, who had been standing back with the carriage, spoke up at this. "Excuse me, but I believe that was a tad unnecessary!" 

"Sango , darling, you're way too much trouble then you're worth," Naraku sighed dramatically, ignoring him. "And if I wanted to save myself a few headaches, I would just leave you here now." 

Her fists tightened, hoping against all hope that that's exactly what he would do. 

"But," he said after lengthy pause. Sango felt her heart sinking below her knees. "All these... _mishaps_ you cause, they just make me more determined to make sure you live - and die - under my hand." 

With that, he strode purposefully towards her, and leaned down to pick her up. She resisted the whole time, desperately kicking and whipping her arms at him in vain. 

He only grew more annoyed. He held her down by her shoulders and slapped her once. The sound echoed through the trees. 

"That was only a preview," he spat. She stopped struggling. "You can expect much more of it when we get back. I don't want to have to go through this again." 

He had turned around to get back into the carriage when another voice stopped him. The young boy had gotten back to his feet. Apparently he was another persistent one. 

"You can't take her." 

"I don't see how you can tell me what I can and cannot do, fool. It's been a long night. I'm leaving." 

"She doesn't want to go," Miroku argued. "Y-you _hit_ her!" 

"Well, I suppose I did," Naraku chuckled. "Sango here, she needs it to keep her in line." 

"How could you_ do _that?" Miroku asked in disbelief. "She's only-" 

"Excuse me, boy, but I don't see how any of it matters to or concerns you. You see, let me explain a little something to you called business. She works for me. She helps - or should I say, will start helping - to make money. If she gets out of line, well, we can't have inadequate employees, correct?" 

Before Miroku could respond, he had already turned around and was steering Sango in the direction of the carriage, beckoning her to get in. He could have dreamed it, but he could have sworn he saw her mouth 'I'm sorry' to him 

He turned to Mushin and bowed slightly. "Sorry for this... inconvenience," he remarked casually. The monk simply regarded him warily. Naraku looked to both him and Miroku, as if seeing them in a new light. "Monks," he noticed. "I assume you are collecting?" 

"Here. You'll need it." He reached into his pocket and threw a few coins to the ground at their feet. "I bid you a good evening then, gentlemen," he said with a wave, and signalled to the driver. 

As the carriage sped away in the direction that it came, Miroku stared after it wordlessly. When it had disappeared from view, he turned his head slowly to look at Mushin, who looked deep in thought. 

"Mushin-sama," Miroku said, startling him out of his trance. "She was...one of them, wasn't she?" 

The monk sighed. "I don't see why she wouldn't be. Obviously she was trying to get away. Didn't you see what little she wore? Not to mention she looked so young. Younger than you even." 

"Why doesn't she just leave? Why does he hurt her like that?" 

"Those are questions that I can't answer, Miroku." 

"But can't we help her?" 

"I don't know. All we can do...pray for her," he trailed off, patting the young boy's shoulder. 

"There's so much to pray for. So much is going wrong in the world. War. This. Everyone - it seems like everyone just wants to hurt one another! Why?" 

Miroku closed his eyes and shook his head roughly, but all that remained in his head was the image of a bruised, shivering, crying girl, with trails in her face paint made by tears and blood. He hadn't noticed it so clearly until now. 

* * *

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_Painted: By Chance - June 26th 2004_

Umm...Well, I remember that Mukotsu was that poison-user who tried to marry Kagome and all that, so why make an OC when there's already a suitable character? I changed the rating from PG-13 to R, even though I didn't intend to, but that warning on the home page really freaked me out, I don't want my account to be closed! So, I guess the subject matter is enough to deserve an R rating...is it? 

Reviewers! You inspire me. 

**randomgemini, Aamalie, Lady Sango 7, faltering, Katrina5, Irasuto, **and **sasha**

Thank you for your kind words. 


	4. We Were

_Disclaimer: You know the drill. I do not own Inuyasha, Inuyasha-related things, the song Asthenia by Blink 182, and Emperor Hirohito's quote at the beginning._

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**Painted**

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****III. We Were 

- 

Believe me, I failed this effort 

I wrote a reminder, this wasn't a vision 

- 

"Should we continue to fight, it would not only result in the ultimate collapse and obliteration of the Japanese nation but would lead also to the total extinction of human civilization." 

_August 1945_

When his father had told him that he was previously training to be a monk before he met his wife, Miroku had made it a personal mission to continue that path in his name. 

The challenge had been made doubly hard due to the hereditary inheritance of weakness for women, and Miroku had exploited many loopholes in order to get where he was today. A student ready to be ordained. 

Now, Miroku tried to be an honest man, and he dutifully confessed to a senior monk every single one of his 'undesirable thoughts.' The loophole was that this monk was Mushin, and for some odd reason, Miroku's misgivings were never reported to the other teachers. In fact, in the eyes of the other head monks, Miroku was a perfectly fine lad indeed. 

It had been a long, hard road, but all his hard work was about to pay off. But now he was having another problem. He was having second thoughts. He was compassionate, yes, he cared for others, yes, but there was one problem. If he was made a true monk, he thought it would be quite disrespectful to his dear father to carry on in this manner and be a holy man. In addition, he wasn't quite confident that he was of the calibre the brotherhood wanted. 

But he had made a vow to go through with it. And so he would. 

After hearing the morning announcement, he wondered if it was a good thing or a bad thing that the induction ceremony had been postponed indefinitely. On one hand, he wanted it to be over so the decision wouldn't be turning over and over in his head, and on the other, he knew that the world was in turmoil and the monks had to put in every effort to pray for the delusions of war. 

He hadn't disregarded the earth-shattering blows that had fallen on Hiroshima and Nagasaki. The three days between the bombings had been the worst for Miroku. People came from the cities, telling their horror stories and showing him the burns. He had lived in constant fear that he too, would perish in an explosion of mass proportion. This sort of fear was against his teaching, but he could not deny his humanity, and so he was scared. 

Japan had surrendered a few days later, on the fifteenth of the month. 

During the days that proceeded those events, the candidates for ordination were still expected to carry out their regular tasks, so Miroku elected to go on his daily alms collection alone. 

He didn't pay much attention to the paths, he knew them well enough, so he carried on with the seemingly mundane task of jingling the rings on his staff and standing at the end of a bridge with a solemn expression on his face. He noticed nothing disturbing save for a few travellers running somewhat frantically up the paths. 

When dusk had settled in, he began the trek back to the temple. Soon, the smell of smoke and ash became evident, and in the distance he could hear shouting and screams. His pace quickened. 

The ambience grew louder, and smoke was now tangible and made his eyes water as he inhaled it. 

Eventually, he came upon the temple, and his eyes met a horrible sight. 

Thick grey smoke poured out of the doorways; the high gate at the entrance had fallen, now lying in shambles. A few stragglers fled the scene, carrying their torches, some colliding with Miroku in their haste. Some shouted in victory as pillars collapsed, brining the ornate roof of the temple crashing to ground. 

"We've followed this- this religion, and look what it's done for our country!" a bystander yelled, and it seemed like the flames rose higher. 

"All Buddhist temples shall be burned to the ground!" 

He had underestimated the claim that the violence was over. 

The image of the burning temple reflected in Miroku's wide eyes as he fell to his knees in front of it. 

All his friends, Mushin-sama, everyone he had ever known- 

His breath hitched in his throat. 

-- 

Naraku tapped his foot lazily against the leg of his chair. "Well, we've lost," he commented to Kagura, who was whipping a broom, more violently than required, at the floor. "Don't you have anything to say to that, Kagura?" 

She let out an inaudible exasperated sigh. "What do you want me to say to that Masuyo-sama? Boy, I'm really glad that two of our largest cities were blown to pieces?" 

He merely smiled thinly. "Kagura, all these years and you still speak to me like that. I don't know why you do it." 

There was a soft knock at the door and a young woman entered. She kneeled before Naraku and touched her nose to the floor in a bow. 

"Ah, what a nice surprise," he remarked. "What brings you here today?" 

The girl straightened, but still did not look him in the eye. 

"Izumi Emi asks a favour of Masuyo-sama." 

Naraku idly twirled a strand of his hair between his fingers. "What does she request?" 

"She wishes for a two day leave to visit her hometown, Masuyo-sama." 

He smirked. "And why, pray tell, would she want to go back there?" 

Her tone began to grow strained. "Surely Masuyo-sama has heard of the destruction of Nagasaki and Hiroshima," she pleaded. 

"And what if I have?" 

"I- I want to see if everyone's okay." 

Naraku stretched his arms out leisurely before regaining his arrogant composure. 

"Denied. You are to remain here and carry out your duties." 

"Incomprehensible bastard - " she muttered under her breath. 

"I heard that wench. But I'll pretend I didn't, for your sake," he said, dismissing her. She stood up, dusted her yukata off, and left without a backward glance. 

Kagura quickly resumed her cleaning. 

"Can you imagine?" Naraku asked, seemingly talking to himself. "Ever since she was brought here, she's been incompetent, and after four years of breaking her down, you'd think I finally made some progress, but she turns around and completely contradicts that claim." 

"I must disagree, Masuyo-sama, " Kagura cut in. "She possessed a fierce aura when she arrived." 

"And now?" 

"Your extreme usage of violence in her case has tamed it somewhat." 

"Yes, she always did require more incentive than the others, now that I think about it. She was the only one to run away," he closed his eyes as he reminisced fondly. "I remember the lashing she received that night. I must have had her within an inch of her life. I would be surprised if she didn't still have the scars! Imagine, trying to flee from me, on more than one occasion, and failing each time? It's laughable." 

"Isn't it enough though? She bends to your will easily enough." 

"That is one thing. But she merely acts in that fashion in order to not be subjected to violence." 

"Violence that is unnecessary. She must have noticed that you enjoy picking on her more than others." 

"So she does. And she makes no effort to improve our relations. I particularly enjoy punishing her, the wretch." 

Kagura sighed. "It's useless to reason with you Masuyo, I just wish that you'd...tone it down." 

He chucked. "Why would I want to do that? Things are acceptable for now, she brought in a lot of money this week, and I expect that to continue." 

-- 

Miroku sat in front of the remains of his home. The once elegant trees surrounding the temple were charred and smoking, the ruins of the building were surrounded by a thick layer of ash. 

'They were nationalists,' he thought. 'Blaming this religion for all that's happened.' 

"But instead of trying to rebuild their lives. They take more," he said aloud. 

He had planned to make an attempt to search for survivors among the wreckage, but everything had been so heavily torched and destroyed he doubted he'd find anything. He moved a few heavy pieces, becoming thickly coated in ash in the process, but his efforts yielded nothing. 

The sun was now setting, the sky coloured with mixed purple and orange hues. For once, Miroku was truly alone. He thought he'd been alone before, without his father and mother, but he realized the true reality of the situation. 

He had wandered for what seemed like hours, and he was beginning to think he was lost. His initial objective was to get to the city and find an inn, but darkness was quickly falling and his surroundings all looked unfamiliar. He'd only been to the city once or twice in the past four years, and each time someone had accompanied him. 

As soon as thought he would have to sleep on the ground that night, a grand and statuesque building came into view. It was a large house, with beautiful sakura trees and a small pond surrounding it. Thinking he must try his luck, he ran forward in the darkness. 

-- 

"Ah, a newcomer!" Naraku exclaimed in delight as an unfamiliar face appeared in the doorway. 

"Yes, actually, I was wondering if you had any accommodations available. I have a little bit of money with me." 

Naraku shook the man's hand. "We always have room for a new guest, come in, you look quite dishevelled." 

"I suppose I do. I come from a temple near here...it was torched by nationalists." 

"My condolences. Are you a holy man?" asked Naraku in slight amusement. 

"I was supposed to be, soon. It's all because of this...this fucking war," the man exclaimed in frustration. 

"Well, we can help you relieve some stress," Naraku offered, leading the visitor into the room. 

"You need to bathe, and get some rest. I have the perfect girl to help you." 

He looked up. "I'm sorry, a girl?" 

"Yes, all the girls here are always willing to help earn their keep." 

The guest became slightly suspicious. "Help?" 

"You'll see," Naraku laughed. "Kanna, go fetch Emi. She has a customer." 

The small albino girl left the room silently. 

"May I ask your name, sir?" Naraku inquired. 

"Miroku," the visitor answered politely. 

Naraku made to introduce himself as well. "And my name is-" 

"You called for me?" a new voice interrupted in a bored tone. 

"Ah, here she is," Naraku declared, giving her a warning look. "Emi, this is Miroku, see to it that he is cleaned and taken care of." 

Sango paused. Miroku. She heard that name before. 

"What are you staring at?" Naraku demanded. 

She regained composure. "I'm sorry, Masuyo-sama. He is just very dirty." 

"That's why you're going to clean him up. Now go." 

Sango moved forward and bowed politely in front of her customer. "Please follow me." 

Miroku just followed her silently. She was beautiful, this girl. A mass of deep brown hair was piled and twisted at the base of her neck, with three or four white flowers tucked into the sides. A silk kimono fluttered with her strides, stark white patterned with deep pink and orange foliage. He had only had a quick glimpse of her face, skin painted a pale white, lips and eyelids tinted a deep pink. 

She led him outside of the house into a private bathhouse. Once inside, she turned around to him and bowed once more, obscuring her face. 

"Does Miroku-sama wish for me to undress him?" she asked in a slightly strained voice. 

"Is that customary?" he asked curiously. 

"I am to serve you," she replied, circling him and untying the knot at his waist. She gathered the dirty outer robes in her arms and folded them. "I will wash these. Please bathe, and I will return momentarily." 

He watched she left, holding her head high. 

Not one to pass up an opportunity, he dropped the white furisode she had thankfully left on him, and sank into the warm bath he assumed she had drawn. 

He had relaxed in the water for a few minutes when he heard her return. "I'll wash these for you as well," she informed him, taking the white inner robes and departing once again, leaving him to mull over his thoughts in peace. 

'What was the name that man called her by?" he mused. 'Wasn't it...Emi?' 

As if on cue, she returned, standing dutifully by the bath, folding her hands and bowing her head. 

"Is Miroku-sama ready to be washed now?" 

He was beginning to find this situation very odd. "I guess?" 

Without a word, she dropped her fine silk kimono and pulled her plain inner robe up so it rested around her knees. A small table sat next to the bath where some soaps were laid out neatly. 

"So," Miroku began, trying to fill the awkward silence between them. "So?" she echoed, and he felt something warm start rubbing at his back. He struggled to find words. "How long have you lived here for?" 

The scrubbing paused, and then resumed. "Ouch, not so hard now," Miroku advised, the sponge being dragged across his skin with more force than required. 

"Oh, sorry," she apologized. "What was your question?" 

He slowly relaxed back into the sensations. "How long have you been here for?" 

"Since I was thirteen," she answered distantly. "So, about four years. I'm seventeen now." 

"That's a long time," he commented. "Do you like it here?" 

Her nails dug into his skin. "It...could be better." 

Wanting to change the subject, he racked his brain for another topic. "I didn't catch your name back there," Miroku remembered, as the sponge moved to his shoulders. "What was it?" 

The scrubbing paused again. "Emi Izumi," she said flatly. 

She decided to ask a question of her own. "Your robes. Are you a priest?" 

"I was supposed to be. My temple was destroyed," he said quietly. 

"I'm so sorry." 

"It's alright. I don't think it's quite sunk into me yet. I feel like I should be feeling something more...but I don't. It still seems so unreal." 

"Did you have family there?" 

"My father died when I was still young, my mother too. I lived at the monastery with my father's friend, Mushin, since I was fourteen." 

He stopped himself. Why was it that he was able to talk to this girl he had just met, about such personal things? Here he was, being washed by a girl he barely knew, talking about the tragedy of his life. He laughed inwardly, reflecting on what he had become. 

He was shaken from these thoughts by her voice. 

"I don't know where my parents are either, and my little brother. He must be twelve now. Ever since the bombing, I've been wondering if they're all okay. They could've been hurt..." she trailed off. 

"They never came to see you in four years?" Miroku asked. 

"They couldn't. I came from a farming village, far away from here. It would cost them a lot to come here to see me." 

"You couldn't see them?" 

"I've known nothing but this place since I was taken here." 

"What are you-" 

He was interrupted as she poured a bucket of water over his head. "You're finished now, I'll just fetch you a towel." 

Sango wiped her feet off and went to the corner of the room to retrieve said towels. She clutched them tightly to her chest for a moment, shaken. Usually her charges never showed a smidgen of interest in her actual life. It was a cycle of pay and receive. Naraku made money, and she sold herself. 

But Miroku, he seemed interested in her deeper than a physical sense, and she wasn't sure about this, but almost concerned for her. She'd had to stop him asking questions before she let out more than she was allowed. 

It didn't matter what appeared different about him. If this had taught her anything, it was that money was the most important goal in life, and to get it, people would lie, beat, and exploit others. 

She had lived four years of selling false love for money, money that she had not had a glimpse of save for the disgusting men pressing the bills into Naraku's outstretched hands, while he grinned in satisfaction at having increased at his fortune for the small price of a young girl's dignity. 

"Are you okay over there?" his voice startled her from her musing as she blinked in surprise. 

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said sincerely, rushing over to him and handing him the towels. "I'll just get your robes for you." Usually she treated the customers with sarcastic exaggerated manners, but she was compelled to be courteous to Miroku. 

"You can turn around if you like," he suggested. "You look uncomfortable." 

A blush rose in Sango's cheeks, a feeling that she thought she'd long forgotten. She complied, crossing her arms in front of her chest and facing a corner of the room. 

He hurriedly threw on his robes and cleared his throat. She turned around, and bowed once again, remembering the formalities. 

"I shall now escort you to the room," she informed him, straightening and motioning for him to follow her. 

'She is really complex,' Miroku noticed as he followed her once again. 'One minute...she's sympathizing with me, the next she's suddenly become a cold servant again. 

'Don't be careless,' Sango chastised herself. 'Why are you even thinking that he's different? That's why he's here isn't he? To fuck you and leave you.' 

They were in the main house again, and Sango led him down a corridor into a room with the door ajar. Miroku noticed something suspicious once again about these rooms. He could hear...strange noises through the screens. 

His attention diverted back to Emi, who was waiting for him in the doorway, fidgeting with the embroidery on her kimono. He went inside, and she slid the door shut. 

The room was small, with a bed on one side, and a table with a vase of fresh flowers in the corner. Beside the bed, she was kneeling, and when he walked into the room, he suddenly felt cold. 

He sat down on the bed, and rested his elbows on his knees. 

"How does Miroku-sama wish to have me?" she asked in an emotionless tone. 

"I beg your pardon?" he returned.. 

"Will he have his way with me? Or shall I undress myself?" she continued, in the same empty voice. Her hands moved to the front of her robes. 

"Is this what you're-" Miroku exclaimed, his suspicions confirmed. She approached his seated form, her robes now pooled around her ankles. 

"No- I don't want-" he began, but she had come too close. She pressed her lips to his firmly, and encircled her arms around him. He hadn't had many opportunities to kiss a woman, but this- it felt strange. Her lips were moving with his, she was touching him, but it seemed rehearsed. Something she did routinely, almost robotic. 

His hands moved to her shoulders and he pulled her away from him. 

"What are you doing?" he demanded, keeping his voice low. 

"Miroku-sama has purchased me for the night. I am only to please him." Her eyes held a sort of fear, and as he held her, she flinched as though he would hit her, rape her, or worse. 

"This is...the brothel," he said in slow deliberation. "I had only heard about this place until...her." 

He looked down at the girl he was grasping, her eyes downcast and lipstick smudged from forcing herself on him. "You don't have to do this." 

"Yes, I do," she argued. "I'm a whore, what else do you have to know!" 

"I'm not going to hurt you." 

She wrenched herself away from him, falling back onto the floor and gathering her discarded robes to her chest. He observed her frail form in the dim light, her hair slightly dishevelled and falling out of place, her smudged face paint and bare back. 

"What happened?" he asked quietly. 

"What do you mean?" she responded, still looking towards the wall. 

"Your back." 

Her hands unconsciously reached behind her and traced one of the patches of darkened skin, then returned to her front. 

"What is it to you?" she whispered. 

"I want to help," Miroku automatically answered. "I want to listen." 

There was a pause. 

"When I was thirteen I tried to run away from here. Naraku found me and brought me back here. I received lashes across my back. This happened again three more times, each time he doubled the amount." 

He was unsure of what to say, thankfully she kept talking. 

"He said that if I didn't lose my virginity the next service, he would take it himself. He sold me to a disgusting man who had his way with me. After that, he was delighted, and tried to save me for the nastiest man who showed up. He hates me." 

Something throbbed in Miroku's memory. "When you ran away...did you-" 

"I met a boy who said he would help me," Sango whispered, her head turning to look at him. "It was dark, but I remember he was with a monk...I said I was sorry that he got hurt because of me, before Naraku took me away." 

"Sango," he breathed, the name coming to him like the sun from behind a cloud. "But that's not your name, is it?" 

She nodded. "They call me by a different name here. But it is me. Are you...you're him, aren't you?" 

"Yes," he confirmed. "I think it was." 

"But...you're alone too, aren't you? Your temple-" 

"Burned down," he finished shortly. 

"You'll be leaving then," she concluded, pulling her hairpins out. Long brown hair tumbled down her back as she did so, obscuring her scars. 

"Do you think I'm going to leave you like this?" Miroku said incredulously. "I will help you escape." 

"You don't have to," Sango declined. "I-It's the same as before. I don't want you to get hurt." 

"I won't get hurt," he countered. "If I can avoid death I can avoid hurt." 

"Why would you try? We - we don't even know each other. Hardly." 

"Sango, you're the only one I do know," he said gently. "That counts for something." 

He offered her a small smile. "Here," he said, standing up. "Sleep on the bed tonight. I'll just sit over here." He indicated a corner. 

Her eyes travelled over him once, and then back to her hands. "No, you're the guest - my customer - you sleep on the bed." 

"I refuse to accept that answer," Miroku declared, walking over to the corner and lying down on the floor. "This is comfortable enough." He closed his eyes and feigned sleep. 

Uncertainly, Sango shrugged her robes on, sat on the bed, and attempted to lie down and sleep. She knew he was faking it so that she wouldn't sleep on the floor, but something in her heart stirred her. 

She hated having to share the bed with those nasty clients Naraku always lined up for her. It was in a bed just like this where she had been reduced to a tool. But seeing this man, the single person who had offered her help, this war had left them with nothing but the skin on their backs. 

She didn't know what to make of him. He too, was another person who had lost everything in the war. In a different sense, but still with the same outcome. 

Even if he did want to help her, what could he do? They both had virtually nothing, no one to help, no one with power. She didn't even know why he was willing. 

She pulled the sheets off the bed and lay down beside Miroku on the floor. She threw the blankets over them, and lay an arm softly across his chest. 'This is against everything you've stood by here,' Sango's mind berated her. 'You despise lying with men you feel nothing for.' 

She craned her neck to observe him more closely. She hadn't seen much of his face since she was expected to bow in his presence, and now she could freely look at him all she wanted, even if he was pretending. 

'Well, I'll put aside reason for now,' she decided tiredly. Today had been too intense, and sleep was now rapidly catching up with her. Besides, she didn't want Naraku to check on her and think she got away without disgracing herself further. 

They were both alone, and for tonight, they could be alone together. 

* * *

_Painted: We Were - July 1st, 2004_

This week I decided to put actual real reponses, since the reviews I'm getting are so nice! Thank you! 

**Vilja - **Thank you so much for your review. I think this chapter is a little lacking in keeping in character, since there's a lot of things going on, but your commens mean a lot to me. The epilogue for void is coming soon too, trust me. ****

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**morelen - **Thank you for your kind words! I'm just happy that some people are receiving it well.****

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**firebird5 - **Thanks, I really have lots of trouble with characterizatio, so any criticism to help me with that is very much appreciated. Miroku was fifteen when he first met Sango, who was thirteen. Now they are nineteen and seventeen, respectively.****

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**ghettotrampoline - **Thanks for the review! Anything you have to say really helps me to keep writing.****

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**Lady Sango 7 - **That honestly had to be THE best review I have ever gotten. When someone takes the time to really write a long comment like that, it has to be recognized. Thank you for taking the time to review this story, and just for that, I'm going to work extra hard on this fic. Sometimes it's hard to be inspired to write when you're just all by yourself, no beta, no other fanfic-buddies, and not getting much feedback, but this helps, it really does. Thank you! 

I rushed this chapter, I don't know how evident it is, but I wanted to finish it before I left for a week-long vacation. I'm going to still try and write, so let's hope for the best. Thank you again for all your support!


	5. Double Sided Mirror

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to the anime/manga of Inuyasha._

* * *

**Painted **

IV. Double- Sided Mirror 

- 

This time, where are you Houston? 

Is somebody out there, will somebody listen? 

- 

_August 1945_

__

There was something deep inside of him that expected to see the ceiling inside the temple, smell the incense in the air, and hear the low chants of the morning meditation. When he awoke, he experienced none of those things. The room was an unfamiliar one, as well as the slight ache in his back that came with lying on the floor. Secondly, there was something warm that weighted on his right arm. 

The surreal events of yesterday came to light in his mind and he quickly remembered. His temple was gone and he had stumbled upon Sango, a girl he thought he'd seen the last of four years ago. He looked down at her serene and coloured face, the paint still smudged around her lips, and the thin blanket wrapped around them. 

For a dreaded moment he jumped to the conclusion that he may have taken advantage of her, but the conversation prior surfaced in his mind. 'It can't be that she stayed with me of her own accord,' he thought in surprise. 'I gave her a chance...Why did she...' 

If he had been awake, would she still have made that choice? Sure she was beautiful, it was expected of her to please him, he was a man, one she thought was expecting her advance. 

Surely she didn't put it past him to have his way with her? 

His thoughts were interrupted by a soft murmuring beside him. "What are you going to do to me?" she breathed in a fearful voice. "Please, not again." She began rocking back and forth, her eyes still closed but her brows knit together. 

"Sango," Miroku coaxed, trying to wake her. She had rolled into him and buried her face in the front of his robes. "Don't let him hurt me," she begged, muffled by the fabric pressed onto her face. 

He stroked her hair gently. "Wake up Sango. I'm not going to hurt you." 

Her body stilled for a moment, then he saw her face staring up at him with wide eyes. There were beige patches on her face where paint had rubbed off. 

"Miroku-sama!" she exclaimed. "Oh no, I'm so sorry, I dirtied your robes," she apologized, beginning to turn red. She wriggled out of his arms and hugged herself when she was out of his reach. 

"Sango, why did you-" he tried to find the right words. "You should have slept on the bed." 

She looked away and did not respond. 

"Did you feel an obligation?" 

"Are you going to tell Naraku?" she burst out instead. "I shouldn't have let you..." 

He frowned. "Why would I even think of doing that Sango? I said I wanted to help you." 

Her face contorted into a confused expression as though she had forgotten. "Oh." 

"Don't you remember?" 

She sighed. "Of course I do Miroku-sama. It's just that...that-" 

"You don't think I can," he finished. 

"I'm sorry," she repeated. "But... I've lived like this for so long, and I've hoped for so long...it seems so unbelievable that this might be my chance at freedom. To see my family again...Kohaku..." 

"You will see them," Miroku assured her. "Enough people lost their families during the war. You don't have to be another one." 

"I don't even know myself if they're even still alive..." Sango brought up. "And the troops...the Allied troops...aren't they going to occupy Japan for a while? Naraku was saying something about it a few days ago." 

"I don't know what to think about that," Miroku said. "I don't know what to think about anything. What is the world coming to, that's what I want to know." 

"Your temple," Sango said suddenly. "Are you ...angry at the people who did that?" she asked. "I know that I really... I just hate Naraku for doing this to me." 

Miroku sighed. "I should be lenient. I was to be a holy man. That's what I try to believe. But really, they ruined all chances of that. In fact, it seems like one big dream." 

"There has to be another temple around I'm sure you can join," Sango insisted. 

"I don't know if they already got to it." 

Sango fiddled with her hair. "I just don't understand why..." 

Miroku smiled a weak half-smile. "Neither do I. It's the same as asking why a beautiful girl like you is forced to sell her body for profits she will never see." 

She looked at him with raw sorrow in her eyes, and it was more evident than ever in her face how much physical and emotional pain she'd been put through. 

"Actually, I really didn't think I'd be a good monk anyway," he said, giving her a rueful smile. 

"Why is that?" 

He winked at her. "I like women too much." 

She blinked. "If that is so...than why?" 

"My father was going to be a monk, but he instead met my mother and they had me. I thought I should follow his same previous path in respect for his memory." 

She shook her head. "No, not that." Her deep brown eyes seemed to pierce through him. "I meant." Her voice lowered. "Why didn't you accept me last night?" 

Miroku forced his face into the most sincere expression he could muster. "Sango, I am not that kind of man-" 

"Surely if you liked women, you just said -" 

"I like women," he stated. "That much is true of me. However, that does not change the fact I studied to be a monk, and I know what is right and what is wrong." 

Sango looked as though he was speaking another language. 

"And it is wrong to allow you to perform non-consensual sexual acts with me. Even though you tried to mask your feelings, I knew that it wasn't something you wanted to do willingly." 

"So if a beautiful woman threw herself at you like I did, you wouldn't respond?" 

"A beautiful woman did throw herself at me last night," he clarified, much to Sango's embarrassment. "And I did respond, at first." 

His voice took on a gentler tone. "But Sango, the way you kissed me, it was as though it was rehearsed, a routine." 

Her expression turned dark. "And if it was?" 

"A girl as beautiful as you doesn't deserve to perform acts of love as though they are merely parts of a play." Now his eyes seemed to bore a hole through her head. "Not to mention the fact that we had just met, you were ordered to attend to me, and throughout the entire time we were together it seemed like you were dreading something." 

"But what does it matter if it's rehearsed or not," she argued. "It's all the same. They all want the same thing. What they want, what they pay for. That's all that matters. It doesn't matter who I am, who they are!" 

"You deserve something real." 

He hoped that he didn't imagine her eyes soften. 

"I think we both do." 

-- 

To be honest, Miroku had admitted to himself that deep within he had only been able to contain himself by luck. He, who had lived in a monastery since fourteen, had never experienced women. Sure, he saw them from time to time, dreamed about them, asked Mushin about them, but meeting Sango, a girl as beautiful and mysterious as the rising sun itself only reanimated those forcefully buried thoughts. 

She challenged any previous stereotype he had about the fairer sex. 

That night when she had forced her lips on his, it had took everything he had to push her away and not bring her closer. It was the sudden action, the shock that accompanied it, and his cultivated rational mind that had prevented him from pursuing his curiosities. He was glad for that, after having the chance to speak to her, but the thought that haunted him was what he would've done if he had not apprehended himself. 

If he hadn't hesitated, and noticed her mechanical movements...he'd be like the rest of the men she had encountered, and the thought scared him. 

Her proximity enticed him and he longed to no longer be curious every time he observed her delicate and slim figure. But she was a girl who had been touched and badly handled for four years of her life, and the side of him that held his morals close sincerely wanted to put helping her first. 

There was something special about her. A girl he hardly knew, a whore nonetheless, was the last thing left in his life. 

Did he really want to compromise that? 

-- 

Whenever he could, he liked to "purchase" Sango for the night and relieve her of any further horrible experiences. Unfortunately, that wasn't very often, and when Naraku noticed Miroku's consistent preference of Sango he started to ask for higher fees instead of the little money he received from alms. 

He ate by either stealing, or blessing people's homes. The latter occurred only rarely, as the nationalist message spread and people demanded Shinto priests instead. The former was becoming increasingly dangerous as well. Allied troops had begun to be stationed in Japan, and he knew that if he were to be caught...he didn't want to think about it. 

He always looked forward to the rare days that he had enough to see Sango. At first he had wanted to meet her in secret, but she refused, partly because there was no way or time, and partly because she feared for his safety. 

Miroku liked to think that Sango kept him somewhat sane. When they were together, he didn't dwell on thoughts of his pitiful life, and instead he liked to listen to her speak. She rarely smiled a real smile. That is, one not borne of sarcasm or force. When he coaxed her, she could talk for hours, of her family, her brother Kohaku, things she'd like to do. Or they would lapse into a companionable silence just relishing the fact that there was someone there. 

He knew that she didn't believe he could really do anything to help. Whenever the topic arose, she would regress into her shy, guarded state and say that was just happy he would come to see her, whilst looking towards the wall. 

The truth is, he also knew he was only one man, and Naraku seemed to be a person of great resource. However, Sango was a fragment of his past and he was determined to help her, rather than help himself. He would pour all of his focus into her, not knowing why. Something in the back of his head told him it was because he didn't care about himself anymore, that it would help him forget, but he brushed those accusing thoughts away. 

She wondered at first why he wasn't more upset about his situation. In addition, she wished he would talk about it to her. Sango, of all people, knew loneliness, and from that knowledge, she knew that if he didn't confront his loss, it would overcome him. 

And so she tried to get him to open up to her, as she did for him. He always seemed genuinely interested in learning about her, and he had a way with persuasion that she always ended up telling him a story from the village even when she had began the conversation by asking him how he was feeling today. 

On the occasions that she was able to convince him to share some of himself with her, he did it with such a formal neutrality or offhandedness that she had to remind herself that she was in the room still. 

Their conversations. They ranged from the most mundane of things to topics that pulled tightly at their heartstrings, though if they did, Miroku rarely let it show. When apart, they were compelled to analyse them in order to break down the other's character. 

He had hoped that by spending their time talking, he would be able to restrain himself. In fact, this only made it worse. Hearing, learning so much about her only fuelled his curiosity, and it was all he could do to grip onto his forearms and laugh about something silly a young Kohaku had done. 

-- 

Today was one of those wonderful days he was able to acquire Sango. Naraku had been in a particularly good mood as of late, for reasons unknown, and let him have her for a lesser price. 

However, as soon as she had begun to lead him away he noticed her expression was sombre. They took their usual position, sitting on opposite sides of the room. 

"Is something wrong?" he inquired. She slammed her fist into the ground. "No. Yes. Naraku's sending me away." 

His brow furrowed in confusion. "Sending you away? Isn't that a good thing?" 

Sango shook her head profusely. "Instead of having me work normally, he wants to send me into the city with a few of the others." 

"Why the hell would he do that?" Miroku asked. She shook her head again. "I have no idea. The government's in ruins. Maybe he thinks we won't get into trouble, even if we're caught." 

"I've been to the city," Miroku recalled. "There are soldiers posted there." 

She looked up at him hopefully. "Do you think they would help me if they knew?" 

He thought about this. "There's a good chance. After all, they're here to keep order right?" 

"You sound unsure," Sango pointed out. "Maybe I shouldn't..." 

"Do it," Miroku decided firmly. "We need to try every possible way." 

"You're right," she agreed. "I will." 

They had fallen into silence,. 

"Sango," he said in a quiet voice. "It's late to say this, but..." He swallowed. "I'm sorry I can't do more for you." 

Sango stifled a yawn. "You do a lot. Too much. In fact, having you here right now is enough." 

She was glad he couldn't see her blush under the white makeup. 

"Are you tired?" she asked quickly, seeing as he was looking at her strangely. "Shall we sleep?" 

"Not just yet," he said quietly. "You go to sleep if you're tired." 

"Good night Miroku -sama," she said with a yawn. "And thank you, again." She let her head fall to the side. 

Miroku looked at her for a moment and tilted his own head back. He closed his eyes and tried to drown out the noises in the next room, but to no avail. 

-- 

He awoke the next morning as usual, to the sight of Sango waiting for him patiently to escort him out, smoothing her kimono as he rose from his place. She led him down the corridor to Naraku, bowed politely to him, and walked quickly back in the direction they had come. 

Naraku watched her go , and then regarded Miroku. "You seem to be awfully fond of her," he commented thoughtfully. "I guess I am, " Miroku responded, pressing the notes into Naraku's hand. He too, then left through the open door, oblivious to Naraku's suspicious gaze. 

"Kanna," he said suddenly. The pale girl rose. "Tell Izumi, Ren, and the others that they are to be ready to depart tomorrow evening." She left the room with a single, slow nod. 

-- 

The next morning Sango found herself in the back of a wagon with a few others, including Kagome, who was currently squeezed in next to her. Although Naraku had not physically come along with them, he had sent Kanna in his place, along with a warning that they would all be accounted for, or else there would be dire consequences. 

It was dark, and only a few lamps lit the moderately busy streets of downtown Kyoto. Kanna led them through some side streets until they reached a stretch of road that was still busy even at the late hour. The red light district. 

"I don't get it," Kagome whispered. "What are we supposed to do?" 

Sango glanced over at Kanna, perched against the side of a building staring at the group of them eerily. 

Eventually, a few of the cars and buggies began to stop and pick up the girls, one by one. There was one figure, however, who lurked on the other side of the road. They couldn't tell if he was watching them or not. 

"Sango," Kagome whispered again. "I don't understand this. I don't want to not know where I'm being taken. How will I get back?" 

Sango had no answer to that, and so she didn't say anything. 

Soon, there were only a few girls left standing at the side of the street. Some returned, passing clips of bills to Kanna as they returned to where they stood. 

They were beginning to think that activity had finally slowed down at the late hour when something caught Kagome's attention. "Hey," Kagome perked up. "The statue's moving." 

Sure enough, the lone figure across the street had begun to cross during the downtime. He kept his head low, but long hair swinging by his back was clearly visible by the long shadows cast. 

"You," he said gruffly, half-obscured by shadow. "Y-yes?" Kagome stuttered. "Are you looking for company tonight?" 

He seemed to almost roll his eyes. "Something like that," the male responded. Kagome blanched. "Don't worry," Sango nudged her. "If anything, just run for it." The man held her by the wrist and pulled her along, Sango watching after her until they disappeared behind a building. 

A few more uneventful minutes passed before Sango's ears detected footsteps on the gravel. It sounded like a small group of people, speaking a language in words that she didn't understand. 

As they walked along the road and came into view, Sango immediately leaned forward in the dim light to get a closer look, ignoring the other girls who had sunk into the shadows. They seemed very tall even from a distance, compared to Sango's small frame. 

One of them said something in the strange language and they all laughed. They wore similar outfits, green or grey - she couldn't tell. Large backpacks adorned their backs and the protruding barrel of a gun was noticed just above their soldiers. 

Suddenly, one of them stopped, signalling to the others. He turned in Sango's direction. She froze. He was looking right at her, it was useless to try and hide now. The group was now walking towards her, shouting and waving their arms as a signal to show herself. 

As they approached, she observed that there were three men, all foreign, with large eyes. Any other detail was hard to notice due to the lack of light. She could make out silver tags around their necks glinting if they turned in certain angles. Two were smoking cigarettes, the burning orange tips and wisps of smoke visible in the dark 

The man at the front was now nearly eye to eye with her. He looked back at the other men and spoke, motioning for them to come closer. He dragged a finger across her cheek, leaving a beige smudge visible on her face. He turned again, showing the rubbed off paint stain on his hand to them. They laughed. 

He leaned, if possible even closer, and began to speak very slowly. She couldn't understand a word. He seized her arm and pulled her out onto the road, where his group quickly surrounded her. He seemed to repeat the same words, but to no avail, she still did not understand. 

She wanted to ask them to help her, to tell her that she was Sango, and she wanted to get herself and the others away from Naraku. But her thoughts drifted to where Kanna was surely watching the events take place. 

Their hands were absently toying with their weapons, and that small adrenaline rush urged her on. She began to speak. "My name," she said pointing to herself, " is Emi Izumi." They looked around at each other, somewhat confused. "I can offer you company?" she tried. Maybe she could get them to go somewhere with her and ask for help then. 

They started to speak again to her, still in a tongue she could not comprehend. Sango grew fearful again, her eyes darting to where one man was taking out handcuffs, to another, brandishing a baton like a weapon. 

She held out her hands in a yield signal and instead brought them to the tie of her kimono. With trembling hands, she withdrew the obi, and fell on her knees, letting the layers of heavy robe fall over her shoulders. She bowed. 

The men's eyebrows raised and they looked to each other. They continued speaking their strange language and one of them hoisted her to her feet. One latched onto her arm, pulling her along. She was now venturing into the unknown. 

-- 

Miroku had spent the evening searching the cities of Kyoto for a home with residents that had not yet retired and would chance letting him in, and was so far unsuccessful, as he expected. He was just about to begin to find a tree to lean against and sleep, but was distracted by the drunken laughter of men and the stuttering of a young girl in Japanese. 

Drawn to the sound, he scanned the buildings for the source. As he passed under a window of the inn, the disturbance was distinctly louder. Pausing, he stood on the balls of his feet to peer into the house window. He heard the whimpers of a girl and the laughter of men. His sight was obscured by a partially sheer curtain and a folding screen but the sounds betrayed no less, and the silhouette of bodies left nothing to the imagination. 

He sank down under the windowsill, taking deep, slow, breaths, cringing when he inhaled cigarette smoke and the scent of liquor. His fists dug deep into the ground and it was all he could do to keep from cursing. 

That's when it hit him. Everything rushed past him, forming a jagged, rusty chainsaw that tore his soul in half. Everyone he ever knew was dead, and the one person he devoted his partial life to was nothing but a selfless whore. Here he was, holding back from her, giving his all to help her, while she lay with men for money. 

All that he knew, but had always been afraid to admit to himself. Could it be that he devoted himself to a glorified perspective of Sango? One that just wanted to be go home, be with loved ones, and forget everything that had transpired since she was thirteen? 

He was so filled with agony and realization about everything, that he felt he needed to cut his gut open to release the tension. Images and thoughts blurred together, and it was hard to sort out any thoughts or feelings. Everything he saw was red. 

If it was so easy, why not him? Why refuse? He was no fucking holy man anymore, it didn't matter if he went against his values. Who would care? There was no one to reprimand him. He grasped on to the idea that he could make something of himself by helping her. That was rich. There was nothing he could do. He was forsaken, and his life meant nothing. If every man but him was to have her...it didn't matter what became of him anymore. He had nothing...why not her? 

He edged around to the side of the house where it appeared that the men were leaving. One clapped another on the shoulders while another laughed. Miroku frowned. As a monk, he had studied english. 

"Shit, I was so uptight before, but that sure relieved me," one commented. One near the back spoke up. "Hey, what'd she say her name was again?" 

The man being spoken to shrugged. "I dunno. I think I heard her say 'gee-sha' once or twice. But I couldn't understand a word. Maybe that's her name?" 

"Who cares what her name is?" another laughed, tossing his long barrelled gun from side to side. "All I gotta say is that there are some damn good whores here." 

"Damn straight," someone replied. "And zip up your pants, idiot." 

They were soon disappearing over the path, and as the helmet of the tallest soldier dipped below the horizon, silence filled the air again. 

Miroku moved to the front of the inn and pushed open the door. It was virtually deserted from what he saw. Perhaps the soldiers had scared the keepers away. It didn't matter if they had been there either, he probably would still have barged in. Reason seemed to have left him at this particular moment in time. 

He navigated through the hall until he head scuffling behind one of the doors, which he promptly slid open. His eyes travelled around the room, taking in the scent of drinks, a few empty bottles littering the floor, and the mess of sheets and pillows, before fixing the figure huddled on the ground. 

Sango was kneeling on the floor, naked to the waist, trying to hurriedly gather a multitude of foreign money scattered on the floor. Her hands trembled and the coins slipped through her fingers. 

She looked up as he shut the door soundly behind him. "Miroku-sama!" she exclaimed, flushing as she quickly wrapped her clothing about her. He continued to stare, and Sango began to grow uneasy. Something wasn't right. His eyes. They were unreadable. 

"Miroku-sama," she said cautiously, approaching him, now fully clothed. "What's wrong? Did something happen?" 

His hand reached out to rest on her shoulder, moving slightly to feel the contour of her neck and collarbone. He duly noted that most of the white on her face was rubbed at roughly, and the red on her lips smudged. 

"Is this what happens when someone asks for help these days?" 

"Miroku-sama," she asked quietly, biting her lip. "What are you doing?" He pushed the fabric off her shoulder and it gathered in the joint of her elbow. She quickly brought her arms up to cover herself. 

"What's gotten into you?" she burst, moving out of his reach. He still said nothing, though his lips parted slightly. 

She eyed him warily, unsure of what to do. Without warning, he lunged forward and encircled her in his arms. 

Her breath caught as he held her there. But as his hands began to roam, she squirmed. "I am just a man," he whispered into her ear. "And I have nothing, nothing but you. You're a whore." 

She tried to push away from him "I saw Sango. And I couldn't do a fucking thing. Not one. I'm sorry." 

"So?" so argued, still pushing at him. "It's not your fault. It's not my choice." 

"Yes, it was," he interrupted. "You went - you did those things." He lowered his lips to her neck. 

He was scaring her. It was as though something had possessed him. And his voice, as he whispered in her ear, was almost feral in nature. 

Her knees quavered as his mouth caressed her collarbone, and travelled back to her lips. "Miroku-sama," she protested. ""Stop-" His lips were in the way. He kissed her greedily, and when he opened his eyes, they were full of lust and confusion. 

"Sango," he breathed. "Tonight-" 

"No!" she responded automatically. "No!" 

He tried to pry her hands away from where she covered herself. "No, stop it!" she fumed, wrenching her arm away and moving away from him, picking up a bottle and shaking it at him, though her hands were shaking. 

"Miroku-sama, I-" she sifted through the words. "I thought you were different. To- to think that I trusted you. I believed in you, that you really wanted to help me." 

'That you really wanted to _know_ me.' 

She stepped around him cautiously. "You're just like the others...just like them," she spat, then turned on her heels and ran into the dimly lighted streets, the bottle breaking into pieces as she dropped it. 

He slumped onto the floor and clawed his fingers into his eyes. "What the hell just happened?" he groaned into his hands. He looked around him and saw the coins and notes still scattered about the room. 

'I just became what I wanted to take you away from.' 

-- 

Her footsteps made barely any noise as she ran barefoot across the city, obi trailing on the ground and clutching her wooden clogs. She had passed the same building for the third time when she came to the intersection the girls had been standing. Upon coming closer, she saw Kagome leaning against a lamppost, but she seemed to be in deep thought. 

Sango was about to call to her when another figure materialized behind her. She whirled around to come face to face with Kanna, still calm and emotionless, however slightly tight-lipped. "Emi Izumi...what happened?" 

"Those...those soldiers. They took me," Sango explained. "I assume you did them service?" she asked. Sango nodded profusely. "Very well," Kanna concluded. She studied Sango a moment longer. "I saw someone else enter after the soldiers exited." Sango blanched. "You followed?" She detected a slight glare on the pale girl's face. "Do not question me." 

"Did you do him service?" she continued. "Yes, yes," Sango answered quickly. "Of course." 

Kanna simply held out her outstretched palm. "Where is the pay," she said quietly. 

Sango cringed inwardly. 'Shit...the money,' she thought in dismay. 

"Well..." Kanna pressed on. "I forgot it," Sango said. 

"Then you will go get it," Kanna declared. "The transport will be here soon. You will go on ahead and we will meet you." With that, she moved to question the others. 

As she walked back to the hotel, she did so with no such urgency as before. Everyone within a ten-foot radius had fled when they saw the soldiers. 

Eventually she found her thoughts leading back to Miroku. Her fists clenched instantly. 'He was just like the rest of them,' she thought angrily. ' I-I actually thought he was different.' She bit her lip forcefully. 'Why?' she pondered. 'Is it just because he only wished to violate me? That's why he spent time with me? Then how is he different?' 

_'Because you thought the world of him?' _

__

_'Because he became your friend?' _

__

_'Because a part of you wanted to escape for him as well?'_

She didn't know. 

She closed her eyes for a moment. 'Maybe it's because he saw me first as Sango, and not a whore...it doesn't matter. I had a distorted view of him.' 

Seeing the familiar hotel stretch as she trekked up a hill, she found the previously occupied room and threw the door open. Her mouth fell open. 

It was clean, spotless even. Tables and chairs arranged neatly, cushions placed in their proper positions. 

However, there was something notable missing. 

The money. 

A knife seemed to stab her in the back as she remembered who she left it behind with. 

* * *

_Painted: Double-Sided Mirror - July 14th 2004_

Man, that is long. I wrote this while on vacation and it spans about twenty notebook pages in my large, chicken scratch handwriting, not counting what I added in the second draft. I apologize for the way I'm butchering Miroku's character here. I swear I don't even know who he is anymore. The thing I feel I failed to get across was why he did what he did. There. Got that off my chest. I also advance-apologize for any spelling/grammar. I usually check my work about three to four times before posting, but tt's about 4 am as I'm posting this and I just wanted to put out the latest chapter after many delays. 

**Katrina5** - Thank you very much for the review, I was very nervous about the last chapter, and I am about this one too. I think I should just label this story OOC altogether. 

**Sangowindwarrior - **Thank you, I'm glad you're enjoying it! (for now)****

**LiLpsYchO - **Well, the rating's been bothering me too, since the story doesn't appear on the main Inuyasha page, I think, but I don't want to get in trouble for being misrated and get my account closed, so I'm playing it extra safe. Thank you for your praise, I never handle that well, but I'm inspired to keep on writing as long as I receive words like that once in a while. ****

**Aamalie - **Truthfully, seeing how well Queenizzay and your fic is coming along makes me want to give up on this once and for all. By the way, I need to go and review it, so expect eight more reviews soon. Thank you for the encouraging words, though I'm not sure what transpired here is so...believable. But I know you'll tell me what to work on, right? Thank you for another great review.****

**Vilja** - I think I should seriously ask you to beta my work for me, heaven knows I need it. Your reviews are always so honest and they compel me to do something about my mistakes. I'm actually kind of anxious for your review this time around. Thank you as always for your review, they always help.****

**animefreak808 - **I like songs! Feel free to sing to me anytime. And review too!****

**Tache **- Thank you for the review!****

**Lady Sango 7 **- Thank you for another wonderful review, every single one really inspires me. And a fan-art! The first one EVER! It's a milestone! This is the typical "bad stuff" chapter, and I'm kind of nervous it won't be well-received. I look forward to your review and any other nice stuff you do or say to me. It's that kind of stuff that makes writing enjoyable for me. Thank you for that.****

**ghettotrampoline - **Thanks for the support! I did have some fun on my vacation, as much as you can have with your mom and your great aunt and uncle.****

**faltering **- From what I know (and that's not much) the war was about the time when Shintoism started. Where I read that, I can't remember. I wouldn't trust my fics too much with being credible, but I know it happened somewhere. I'll try to find it for you! Thank you for your encouragement and kind words.****

**Fireblade K'Chona** - I hope this chapter is long enough for you, it was really long for me. I need to get some rest, wake up and get to work on the next chapter. I'm really behind schedule! Thank you for your support and thank you for reading! 

As always, I thank all the reviewers for their continuing support and love in general. You keep me going. 


	6. Fear Without Change

_Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha._

* * *

**Painted **

V. Fear Without Change 

- 

My head is made up of memories, 

Most of them useless delusions 

- 

_August 1945_

__

__

Leather cracked across skin, leaving a trail of streaked blood in its wake. Another deafening crack, and more blood poured. She winced, biting into her sleeve. 

"Foolish girl," Naraku said in his honeyed tone. "Common sense. Put the money away once received." 

She had drowned out his voice already, and was more worried about the metallic taste of blood in her mouth. 

"Well, how much was it?" he taunted. "How much did we - I lose, to be exact," he corrected himself. 

An inaudible whisper. Another strike. 

"I said I don't know!" 

"You didn't count?" asked Naraku in amusement. 

"It was fucking foreign okay?" she almost shouted. "How am I supposed to know how much money it is?" 

Two consecutive lashes followed this. "You don't use curses Sango. Very unladylike," he commented with a twisted half smile. 

It had been three days since the servicemen had approached her. Three days since Miroku had been in to purchase her. Three days into the week-long torture Naraku had punished her with for wasting time and money. Every night she was required to report to Naraku, sacrificing sleep for abuse. 

She found that she became numb after the first few strikes with the heavy piece of leather, and therefore pain became more bearable. 

Kanna sat in the corner like a porcelain doll, eerily still, observing her with empty black eyes. He smirked, raising his arm again, when a sharp knock sounded at the door, a silhouetted figure visible through the screen. 

"Kagura," he stated, slightly annoyed at the interruption. 

"Master Naraku," she said, bowing. "There is a man requesting Izumi at the front." 

"At this hour?" he asked in disbelief. Something dawned on him as his gaze reverted back to Sango's bleeding back. "Is it that cursed would-be monk?" he asked sharply. "Tell him she is not available tonight." 

Sango's eyes widened. "Miroku..." Her heart and mind battled, unsure of whether to be disgusted or hopeful. 

As Kagura bowed and left the room, Naraku rounded on Sango. "This man...he seems awfully interested in you," he commented. 

He swept the strap across her back, irritating the lacerations. An incoherent choked sound came from Sango's throat. "I don't know," she answered through gritted teeth. 

"Masuyo Naraku-sama should know that the same man saw her three nights ago," Kanna's empty voice said. 

Naraku's eyebrows rose interestedly. "Is that so?" 

She drew her breath sharply as fresh pain tore through her back. "Does he follow you around now?" he taunted. "Or is he so desperate and full of delusions that he thinks you're actually worth pursuing?" he said with a sickening smirk on his lips. 

"You need to make-up for the money you lost," he said. "You will continue working, but you will also take charge of the sanitary duties of this building. You will see to it that not a speck of dust doesn't grace my shoulder." 

They were interrupted once again by rushing footsteps. "Were you able to get rid of him?" Naraku demanded as Kagura appeared in the doorway. 

"Yes, but it was not easy. He wanted to know if she had been bought, and I said no. I offered him another girl, but he refused, saying he'd wait for her. I had to threaten him twice before he physically left the area, and than he offered to buy her completely." 

"How much money was he carrying?" 

"A substantial amount. It was all crumpled together, but there was a fair sum." 

"What is his interest in you?" Naraku asked, circling Sango. He tapped the leather strap in his hands. 

"He enjoys my company," Sango spat, with a hint of sarcasm. 

"How does your company differ from that of anyone else?" 

"I don't know." Another whip crack. "There's a lot of things you seem to not know. " Naraku said thoughtfully. "I wonder why that is." 

He let Sango lay slumped on over the bench for a moment longer before summoning Kanna to dispose of her. 

-- 

She lay on her front that night, with her head turned to the side as she tried to find sleep. Pain still seared through her back, even though her punishment had ended over two hours ago. 

"Sango...Sango, are you awake?" a whisper prodded her. 

"Yes," she responded, keeping her eyes half-closed. 

"I'm sorry, I didn't want to shake you or anything because of...well, you know," the voice said uncomfortably. 

"Kagome?" Sango asked, attempting to sit up. 

"No, none of that. Lie down," Kagome scolded. "And whisper, I don't want to be heard." 

"What is it?" Sango inquired, sensing the urgency in her voice. 

"The man who approached me in the city," she said quickly. "He is from my village." 

She paused, apparently waiting for any comments. When none came, she continued. 

"He wants to help me escape. Imagine, all the things we wanted to do-" 

"What are you saying?" Sango cut in. 

"Oh Sango," Kagome whispered, laying a hand on her arm. "I want you to come with me." 

She heard no excitement at this. "Sango? Aren't you happy?" 

She looked away, though Kagome couldn't tell in the darkness save for the sound of shifting sheets. 

"I tried to run away before Kagome. You know what happened." 

"But it'll be different this time, Sango," she insisted. "I'll be with you, and we have help. Real help." 

"Help?" Sango said dubiously. 

"Inuyasha - that's his name - he said he will be waiting near the main street in a covered wagon. He knows the layout of the grounds, and - " 

"How did you plan all this behind Naraku's back?" Sango couldn't help but feel slightly impressed. 

"Well...ever since the city, I've waited until Naraku brought you in for punishments...that's when..." she trailed off. 

"I see," she said slowly. 

"So, will you come?" Kagome spoke up. 

"I want to," Sango began. "But it will be difficult. Naraku calls on me for punishments, and if Miroku comes back to try and purchase me-" 

"Miroku?" Kagome asked curiously. "The monk that specially requests you?" 

"Never mind that. We'll leave after the punishment. That way if Miroku comes to purchase you, you can service and Naraku will think you have gone straight to bed." 

Sango ran through the plan twice in her mind before confirming, though she still felt a lingering skepticism. She just hoped that Miroku wouldn't unexpectedly arrive like he did today. 

Something inside wanted him to know she was escaping. There was a funny feeling in her stomach that told her she couldn't do it without him. 

-- 

That afternoon Sango was drawing water for the vases when the soft patting of approaching footsteps alerted her. She whirled around quickly into someone's chest and spilled her bucket of water all over their fronts. 

"I'm sorry," she mumbled, keeping her head down. 

"It's quite alright...Sango," the voice said softly. Her eyes traveled up towards his face. 

"Miroku-sama!" she breathed. Tensing, she gripped her hands in a fist. 

"You shouldn't be here!" 

For a moment, he said nothing as he gazed at her with mixed sadness and uncertainty in his eyes. She wanted to tell him to get the hell away from her, and her lips moved to do just that, but the words wouldn't come out. 

"Sango," he said again, reaching towards her shoulder. She twisted away from him, shuddering slightly from the coldness of the water soaking her front. 

Again, she wanted to tell him not to touch her, but she couldn't. 

"I'm sorry." She regarded him with the same hurt expression from three nights ago. 

"For what?" she asked. "You're a pig like the others. There is nothing to apologize for." 

He looked down at this. "It just shocked me to see-" 

"Shocked you to see what?" she exploded. "I'm a whore. That's what whores do. You knew that. You knew about that..." She didn't notice the frustrated tears in her eyes. 

The inclination to hold her crossed through his mind, but he disregarded it. 

"When I saw, it just- it made everything hit." 

"It did, did it?" she said, still angry. "Because you never wanted to talk to me about it. I told you everything. I didn't want to, but I did. Something....I felt like I trusted you." 

He continued to gaze at her, sopping wet and angry. 

"And even so," she continued her tirade. "How does the sudden realization of your now ruined life inspire you suddenly grab and grope the closest thing to you?" 

"What I think," he interrupted, holding his hand out in an attempt to silence her. "Is that I didn't know what to think, what to do. Sango, I realize it now, that I can't be of much help to you. I am practically worthless. Somehow, thoughts of you...they kept me from insanity. To see you violated...humiliated..." 

She looked down at this, as if in shame. 

"I thought that if they got to have you...Well, I had nothing left. You even said it yourself. I knew I lost everything. So I grabbed the closest thing to me and held on tight, so I wouldn't lose it." 

"That still doesn't explain it...it doesn't..." she said over and over. She shook her head and brought a hand to her temple. 

"You better leave Miroku-sama. I might be caught." 

He tipped her chin up suddenly, and her eyes grew wide with surprise, fear, anger, and maybe excitement. How had he come so close? 

"What I'm trying to tell you, Sango..." he bent forward and swept his lips over hers. It was barely for a second but he tried to pour everything into the brief moment. Passion, care, warmth, everything a kiss should make one feel. He hoped she found it as sincere as he made it. 

Trying not to be forceful as he held her arms down from where they were struggling to perhaps punch him, he held her until she eventually grew limp. 

He gently set her on her feet and was gone before she could say a word. 

"Hey..Wait - You had no right to do that!" she started to explode, but he was already too far away. 

She had seethed for a few more moments, before leaning against the side of the well, her legs suddenly feeling like jelly. Her hand rose to her lips, eyes closing. 

'What are you thinking Sango...this is...what is....' A heavy coolness on her chest reminded her of her wet front. She bent picked up the fallen bucket, and after setting it back on the rope and drawing a fresh bucket, she turned towards the main house with the intention of changing after filling the vases. 

That's when she saw her. As she walked up from the small hill outside the main house, a small pale girl dressed in all white stood silently and stiffly on the porch. Sango unconsciously gripped the bucket tighter. As Sango approached the steps, she stopped before Kanna, who's expression, as always, betrayed nothing. Had she seen? 

Not taking any chances, she bowed quickly and ran inside to change the water. 

-- 

The light in their cabin was dim as the late afternoon faded into the evening, and two girls remained within. Kagura had granted them special allowance to tend to Sango's wounds. 

Sango pulled her decorated kimono to her waist and lay on her front on her bed, the sight of skin whipped raw and dried blood eliciting a wince from Kagome. 

"Ouch." 

"Trust me, it feels much worse than it looks." 

Kagome dipped a towel in a tub of warm water and wrung out the excess. Gingerly, she tried to clean the slashes, but she held back, afraid of hurting her friend even more. 

"Just clean it Kagome-chan. Don't worry. You don't want me to get an infection right?" Sango gripped the sheets in front of her. 

A few moments had passed where both just concentrated on their tasks. 

"I know this is obvious, but Naraku is so stupid," Kagome said suddenly. "Why would he do this to you? It's like, he wanted you to be disfigured this way!" 

She threw the dirtied rag aside, and grabbed another. 

"Just look at the business he runs," she continued to rant. "One where he constantly advertises beautiful girls, yet he doesn't put any effort into maintaining that beauty. Someone should tell him this is bad for business." 

Kagome turned a small bottle of alcohol upside down onto a wad of gauze. "I'm sorry Sango-chan, but this is going to sting." 

She waited for the quick bob of Sango's head before carefully wiping around the edges of the cuts, trying to ignore the way her entire body was tensing. 

"And what will happen once I'm done here, cleaning you up and putting on some bandages? You're going in for another punishment!" Kagome exclaimed, trying to distract both of them. "I bet that he didn't authorize this break and Kagura's getting into a spot of trouble." 

She chose another cloth and started to pat dry the wet areas. 

"I'm so sorry you have to go through this again, but it'll be the last time," she promised. "I'll be so glad when we get out of here-" 

"Wait...Kagome. I have to tell you something," Sango interrupted. Her eyes looked downcast. "I can't come with you." 

"What do you mean you can't come?" she said indignantly. "You want this even more than I do." 

"No, listen Kagome," Sango continued, turning her head to the side so she could see her friend better. 

"Miroku came to see me today." 

Kagome made a noise of surprise. "He came...Sango, you know that's not allowed!" 

"I know, but-" 

"What did he say?" she asked excitedly, her hands pausing in mid-air from where she had been preparing to tear apart a package of bandages. 

Sango was taken aback. "Excuse me?" 

"What did she say?" Kagome repeated in the same tone, now dropping the package on the side of the bed. 

"Well...he apologized for what happened-" 

"What happened?" 

"Well he - he's been through a lot. And...he just made a bad choice." 

Kagome gasped. "He didn't...did he?" 

"No, he has no money to pay me, but he tried to...at first...I didn't let him." 

"But he always comes to see you," Kagome pointed out. 

"He does, but we never...He doesn't ask, we just...talk." 

"I heard you tell Kanna you did him service." 

"I lied. What could I say? That he went into the room, said hello, and left again?" 

"But still, why was he there...and why did he come to see you today, outside of hours? It's not a coincidence at all." 

"I've been seeing a lot of him. The truth is...the first time I tried to run away, four years ago, I met him. By accident, he came here, and it took a while, but I remembered him." 

"And?" Kagome pressed, obviously intrigued. 

"He lost a lot because of the war too, his temple. He decided that he really wanted to help me get through this, but really...he wanted to forget what happened to him." 

Kagome continued to stare wide-eyed at Sango, egging her on. 

"When those servicemen...approached, he-" 

She paused to sigh deeply. 

"He saw everything. And I don't know how, but it apparently triggered some sort of emotional breakdown for him. I've thought about it, and I still don't understand." 

"And what happened today?" 

"He came while I was drawing water for the vases. He apologized, tried to explain his actions...then he...and I let him..." 

Her fingers rose to softly touch her lips. 

"He..." 

"Kissed you?" 

Sango blinked as though she hadn't heard. 

"I knew it! I knew it from the moment you touched your mouth." 

Sango adjusted her head on her pillow, trying to seem indifferent. 

"That's romantic Sango-chan...but it was still dangerous. In broad daylight too. You could have been seen!" 

"That is why I can't come with you," Sango explained. "I think that Kanna could have seen. I don't want to take any chances of ruining your plan." 

"But Sango-chan!" Kagome argued. "I'd feel guilty forever if I left you here, knowing I could have taken you with me!" 

"And I'd feel guilty knowing that I was the reason you had to give up a chance to escape," Sango countered. 

"No," Kagome said stubbornly. "So what if Kanna saw? There might still be a chance that Naraku won't suspect anything of you." 

"He's already suspicious enough of Miroku as it is," Sango responded. "If he knows we were together today, against his rules, he's going to be watching me like a hawk!" 

Sango started to prop herself up on her elbows, and before Kagome could scold her to lie back down, she locked eyes with her. "Kagome-chan, I'm sorry but my decision is final." 

Kagome picked up the forgotten package of bandages and finished opening it half-heartedly. She knew that once Sango had made up her mind, there was no more arguing. 

As she smoothed the last tan coloured bandage over her back, Kagome admired her handiwork. Sango's back was still in need of better attention, but with the cleaning and bandaging, it looked much neater. 

Dark thoughts returned when she remembered that all her hard work would soon go to waste. 

She looked back to where Sango was not concentrating on swiping the red ended brush over her lips. 

"Sango-chan," she whispered, causing her to look up. 

Kagome fought the urge to hug her, not wanting to inadvertently hurt her, and instead took her hand and squeezed it tight. 

"Take care of yourself, okay?" Kagome said with a small smile. "I want to see you again soon." 

Sango didn't respond to this. "Good luck tonight, Kagome-chan," she said, squeezing her hand in return. "And thank you." 

-- 

"You're late," Naraku stated shortly after Sango hurried into the main room. 

"Apologies," Sango offered, bowing quickly. 

He ignored this. "Why?" 

She kept her head down. "Kagura-sama granted me extra time to prepare, Masuyo-sama." 

"I didn't know of this," he said in response. 

"I'm sure that if you ask her, she'll tell you that -" 

"Come with me," his cold voice cut in. 

"But, Masuyo-sama, don't I have to - " 

"Do not question my authority." 

Sango mentally cursed Kagura for not making it clear she had given permission for Sango to be late tonight. But then again, maybe she did, and he just chose to conveniently forget. 

As she followed him into the familiar room of punishment, she almost bumped into Kanna. She stared hard at her, trying to decipher by her face whether she had told Naraku or not. 

She probably had told him everything. 

"Leave us, Kanna," he requested. "And if that...monk shows up, kindly inform him that Izumi is...feeling a bit ill this evening." 

And then they were alone. 

He indicated the familiar bench she had draped herself across to receive her punishment, and with a heavy sigh, did just that, dropping her kimono to her waist as usual. 

"Bandaged yourself did you?" He noticed with slight amusement. "Waste of time, for both of us." 

Sango was prepared to tune out from his comments when he said something else that brought her hard back to reality. 

"You think you're above yourself here? That you can break the rules?" He asked icily. 

"You always were foolish. During the middle of the day, in a place as obvious as the well outside. Meeting men." 

She suddenly had a throbbing headache. 

"Wait, not men. Just one man. A certain man who always seems to show up here just for you." 

He had picked up the leather strap and it dangled loosely from his relaxed grasp. 

"No relationships outside of these rooms." 

She jerked as it hit her, pain bursting from underneath the bandages. 

"No lies told towards me." 

It was a familiar pain, but that fact did not stop it from hurting doubly each time. She grit her teeth and hoped that Kagome would make it out okay. 

Her back had started to become numb when he said something that made her blood freeze in her veins. 

"If I ever get word - just one word - that you are screwing around outside of my knowledge-" 

He emphasized his words with a tense pause. 

"I'll kill you." 

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_Painted: Fear Without Change - July 17th, 2004_

**Vilja** - I check to see the first review and I get a nice big long essay. Well, at first I was like, uh oh, I must've done something bad, and then I read it, and realized you were just commenting on the chapter. You even ended up explaining some of the story to me, I think. =) Hmm, when I asked you to beta, it's not for the punctuation/spelling, but for the plot, characterization, continuity, etc. which I think I would benefit from a second opinion. Anyway, thank you for taking the time to write out all that, and I hope that you will continue to give your constructive comments. 

**Aamalie** - One word. Paragraphs. My weakness, ne? The seventh heart attack scare of the day was "This sucks." Don't ever do that again. A few chapters more...but I have the nagging feeling the ending will be me frantically out a synopsis of whatever was supposed to happen over three chapters. Finally, thank you for the beta-work. The only one to not be scared of having to read my chapters before everyone else does. 

**Fireblade K'Chona** - To balance out the chapters, this was was shorter. Just joking, it ended up that way. I thought too much stuff again would burn readers out. Thank you for the positive review. 

**SangoLancer200** - Well, there isn't really any explicit stuff in this story...just the themes are a bit...questionable and I don't want to get booted off , do I? As long as you're mature. Thank you for your review though! 

**Lady Sango 7** - I'm exhausted, but I've been full of updates right? Thank you again for another encouraging review, I'm glad that people are understanding how I'm trying to right here. Well, I just got my first flamer ever, so I'm starting to appreciate the good reviews even more. Thanks for all the support you give me. Oh, and I added you to my AIM, if you want to talk to me (or not). 

**Katrina5 **- Those kinds of words make me all warm inside, especially after writing that angsty stuff like chapter six of Void. I will see this story through to the end, and hopefully I'll have it done before the deadline of the YtN fanfiction contest, which this was written for. Thank you for your encouragement, it really gives me a boost. 

**faltering** - And the invasion of the long, flattering reviews continues. =) I'm hoping no one will have the urge to report me, though with that flame I got yesterday, I'm not so sure. Thank you for your amazingly kind words, which are so inspiring that if I got this one review and a hundred other flames, I'd still finish the story just for you. 

**animefreak808** - Though arguably nothing quite as drastic happened in this chapter, I'm glad that the events of the last one were unexpected but didn't make you want to kill me. Thanks for the positive review and the update is here, two days later. 

**LiL psYch0** - Yup, I was for sure on vacation, writing helped me get to sleep at night though. Haha, after that 'Hulk' thing, I thought about it too. It made me laugh. This chapter wasn't as long due to some....things happening. But thank you for your support. Oh, and Margo tells me you have AIM? 

Anonymous flamer "**Sangoslover123**," I am responding to you last so that everyone else doesn't have to read this big chunk of writing coming up. I tried to make it clear by dating the chapters that this story takes place well over fifty years ago, not the present day. And by no means did I confirm the soldiers as American. Allied forces were made up of people from many different countries and not just America. By doing a tiny bit of research, I'm sure you'll find that the myth of geisha as prostitutes is partly based on what happened after WWII, because prostitutes did have contact with soldiers, and they called themselves geisha because it what was best understood. Finally, calling me an "damn anti american bastersd" hit me personally, because I happen to love America, I visit New York state every year and pay my respects. And as for my "poor ass country," which happens to be Canada, I'm not stuck here, and I'm not "hatin." 

If you are still mad, you can e-mail me, my address is on my bio, or you can leave yours, so I won't have to end another chapter on a bad note. 

For everyone else, thank you for your positive reviews and encouragement. I _will_finish this story.


	7. A Hint Of Her Mystery

_Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha or Blink 182's 'Asthenia'

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**P****ainted **

VI. A Hint Of Her Mystery 

- 

This room is bored of rehearsal 

And sick of the boundaries 

I miss you so much 

- 

_September 1945_

Following that night, there had been an uproar when Kagome had turned up missing the next morning. 

Of course, Naraku hounded Sango first. But she played the innocence act well. And while she had been the recipient of most of his frustration, she was inwardly relieved that at least Kagome had another chance to start a new life. 

Everyone deserved a chance. 

She missed her. Of course she did. The atmosphere in this place was dreary at best, and not many of the girls had the will to be friendly and reach out to others. Life here just put a strain on feelings, on actions, that at the end of the day, everyone would rather sleep away their troubles than relate them to others. 

But Kagome had the gall to laugh, even joke about her situation, and was able to identify and provide the appropriate sort of comfort someone needed at any given time. Not to mention that Sango could hardly clean wounds on her back by herself. 

Luck had been good to her and hopefully she was safe and well. However, fate had been unkind to Sango, who was still stuck in the same predicament she had been in for years. 

Though it had been a few days since Miroku had been here, Sango was somewhat relieved because it at least gave Naraku time to calm himself. Her punishment had recently ended, and as always, he acted as though she had received a mere slap on the wrist for calling out an answer in a classroom. 

Thankfully, Miroku had the brains not to pull another stunt like showing up, outside, in the middle of the day. She hoped that he wouldn't, for both her sake...and his. 

She didn't want to admit it, but after the initial relief that Miroku wasn't quick to return to this place, she had begun to hope he'd come. And even ... miss him. Yes, she had admitted it to herself. She missed him. It contradicted every thought in her mind that said he shouldn't have gotten involved with her, even that night as youths when they had met by chance. It was safer for him to sever ties with her, but try as he might, he was drawn to her, and hadn't been shy in telling her that. 

Even though a tiny part of her brain screamed for her to still be angry for his loss of control, the rest of her head was too tired to listen to it. Frankly, she had never realized how much she had come to rely on him. 

The kiss. Even with the life she had led, and the confusion and anger clouding her senses, he had broken through it all with just a single kiss. It was completely different, a parallel to anything she had ever felt before. Something done in pure regards to her feelings, and not of selfish desire. It felt so...real. 

When she was thrust back into the vicious cycle she followed night after night, she began to wish for the times he would come to see her, not demanding, not forceful, not violent, but to _see_ her. 

She'd taken Naraku's death threat to heart. Killing someone for defying him; she wouldn't put it past the bastard. And even though there were a few days that she'd rather herself dead than living this pitiful excuse for existence, there was a nagging feeling in her stomach that told her she wanted nothing more than to see her family again, and start a new life, a real life, maybe even with... 

She shook her head. She liked to consider herself strong and independent, and despite Naraku's attempts to destroy that, she adamantly refused to go to pieces over the newfound freedom of her friend, or the returning feeling of loneliness. 

Though she truly wished for him to come, she also knew circumstances had become extremely dangerous. 

As much as she didn't want to, refused to, believe it, Naraku was her proprietor. If she was able to get to a law enforcer of her country, the effects of the war were still great and with her status being that of a woman, a slave even, her demands would be low priority, or even dismissed. That was not considering the fact that Naraku was resourceful and could easily manipulate his way out of problems. After all, he had been able to operate this place for a substantial amount of time without being discovered. A simple statement from him that she was lying and her entire effort would go down the drain. 

She held on to the hope that once order had been restored, his arrogance would be his downfall and he would get what he deserved. 

-- 

It was ironic how the day she had finally begun to let it sink in that maybe Miroku had given her up for good, was the day he chose to return. 

"Well. I haven't seen you...in a while," Naraku remarked as the profile of the would-be monk surfaced to the top of his memory bank. 

"Yes, life has been...a bit more disruptive as of late," Miroku said with a tight smile. "I haven't been able to see Sa - Emi, for a while now." 

"Pity that is," Naraku said calmly. "If you want her, she's double the price." 

Miroku looked unfazed. "I'm sure you'll find that this is a good enough amount," he said, in an equally bored tone. "Enough to perhaps...purchase her for good?" 

Naraku looked down at the money in his outstretched hands. "Where did you get that?" he asked in a low voice. "Been travelling overseas lately?" 

Miroku continued to stare determinedly at Naraku. "I don't think it concerns you how I make my money, though I am sure I acquired it in a slightly more honourable method. But I digress. Please, consider this offering." 

The establishment owner hid his frustration, swiftly turning to the side. "She is not for sale." 

Miroku drew back his hands, full of notes, and tucked half back inside of his robes. 

"Then I will give you this, double the rate, and have her for tonight." 

"Kagura, take the money, and Kanna, inform the wretch she's got a customer," Naraku commanded, relinquishing all pleasantries. He turned to Miroku again, crossing his arms and tapping his fingernails along his forearm. 

"What is your interest in her, a common whore? She is only a woman." 

As he handed Kagura the money, Miroku's lips formed a slight smirk. 

When the white haired girl returned to show Miroku down the corridor to a room, he gave Naraku one last penetrating stare. 

"Exactly." 

-- 

Sango stood outside the screen door, staring anxiously down the corridor at the pair approaching. She fought to maintain a calm countenance, though inside her stomach was flipping with both anxiety and excitement. 

As they came closer, Sango bowed in courtesy, remaining bent over until his two sandal clad feet were visible on the ground in front of her. She rose, and tried to remain inconspicuous as Kanna looked between the two of them. 

"Would Miroku-sama be so kind as to wait inside the room?" Kanna asked quietly. "I have a few words to exchange with Izumi. Please forgive the inconvenience." 

He looked confused, but nonetheless complied. Sango bit her lip, why couldn't these damn people just regard this as a normal session? 

"Yes?" Sango inquired, trying not to sound uneasy. It was lost on Kanna, who was painfully observant yet equally as ambiguous. 

"Masuyo-sama has left me specific instructions regarding this patron," she said in her monotonous tone. 

"He is carrying a great sum of money with him. It is Masuyo Naraku-sama's order that you steal it." 

"What?" Sango gasped in disbelief. "That - That's uncalled for! He could easily find out!" 

"Another condition," Kanna continued, disregarding anything Sango had said. "If you are caught, you are to take full responsibility." 

Without another word, she was making her way back down the corridor, leaving Sango open-mouthed outside the door. 

-- 

"Sango," Miroku said quickly, standing up from where he had been sitting on the side of the bed. 

"Miroku-sama," she replied quietly, sliding the door shut behind her. 

"It's been-" he couldn't seem to find the words. "It's been a long time." 

"Not that long," Sango insisted. "Perhaps a week, or maybe two." 

"A week and two days," Miroku clarified with a slight smile. 

There were so many things she wanted to ask him, tell him, but she couldn't seem to speak at the moment, nor look at him. 

She tensed as she felt hands on her shoulders. 

"How have you been Sango?" he asked gently. 

Slowly, she brought her hands to grip onto his arms. 

"It's been...the same. How better could it get here anyway Miroku-sama?" she said in a small voice. 

"But Naraku, he hasn't been hurting you lately, has he?" 

Sango's eyes darted every where but his face. "Miroku-sama, you know he always...reprimands me. It's okay. " 

A flash of what Sango recognized as anger flitted across his features. 

"It's not okay. That's not okay at all, Sango. Don't ever for one second, believe that you deserve that." 

Quickly, before Sango could even respond to his statement, he had moved his hands from her shoulders to the small of her back, encircling her fully with his arms. She wanted to do the same, but as her hands were halfway from holding onto his back, there was a pressure that stretched her lacerations, which were still healing. Her hands balled into fists and she whimpered into his shoulder. 

Alarmed, he pulled away from her and took in her grimacing face. 

"What's wrong? Are you hurt?" 

"No-" Sango said shortly before drawing in another breath. "I mean yes." 

"Where?" 

"Don't concern yourself, Miroku-sama," Sango argued, all the while sinking to the ground. 

"It's your back, isn't it? What did he do? What did the bastard do?" 

"Please, keep your voice down," Sango pleaded. "I just got a lashing." 

"Your robes," he demanded. "I need to see your back." 

She shook her head immediately. "It's nothing." 

"Nothing isn't you sitting on the ground clutching your hands in fists while groaning," Miroku retorted. "In respect for you, Sango, I will not rip your clothing off you, but rather, I ask that you show me your wounds, if you still trust me." 

'If I still trust him,' Sango thought to herself. Who else was there left to trust? 

Defeated, she faced away from him and dropped the layers of fabric to her waist, holding some of the fabric against her chest to cover it. She heard Miroku's quiet gasp as he took in the scabbed red skin, and the clumsy bandaging. 

He fell to his knees behind her and kept himself from reaching out to touch the wounds. 

"Why?" 

"Why what, Miroku-sama?" Sango responded bitterly as she drew her kimono over her shoulders again. 

"Why did he do this to you? This was a punishment wasn't it? For what?" 

She whispered something under her breath. 

"Sango, slowly, and clearly." 

She breathed deeply. "Because Kanna, the girl with the white hair and the black eyes, saw me with you when you last came. We're not allowed to see men outside of the rooms and outside of Naraku's knowledge." 

His face faltered. "It was my fault, wasn't it?" 

"No, it was mine for not acting sooner," Sango insisted. "Miroku-sama, I'm worried about what Naraku might do if he catches us again. Not just me, both of us." 

"It was my fault you got hurt this way," he repeated. 

"No, don't blame yourself, please," she begged. "It's nothing, really." 

He stretched his legs out from under him and leaned heavily against the bed frame. 

"You know, I'm really hurting you more than I'm helping you, aren't I?" he thought out loud, tight lipped. 

"No, no, Miroku-sama, you aren't listening to me," Sango said, a little louder than necessary. 

"You coming here to see me, to give me a break, all that is helping me, though you don't think it is. And everything, who you are, what you do for me...Even now, just sitting here...all of this makes me happy," she confessed, feeling slightly warm on her cheeks. "And I'd take Naraku's torture if it meant that I'd still get to see you." 

"Sango...you make it sound as if you take it for my sake," Miroku began. "You know how much seeing you means to me, and I want nothing more than to see you free from this. 

"It's things like that, Miroku-sama. It's like, you blind the darkness, just with who you are. And when you...when we-" 

"Kissed," he offered. 

She was thankful for the paint that masked the blush she was sure covered her face. 

"When we kissed," she reiterated, convincing herself that it had indeed happened. "It was so - It felt so..." she struggled to find words. 

"Real," he filled in again. 

"Yes...Something I've never felt...A kiss in all its simplicity, has never felt so real to me. It's always been someone different every night, for so long. They've always wanted something else... And I... I've never had-" 

The words stopped coming. 

She looked away, fidgeting with the embroidery on her kimono. "I want to be free," she whispered to herself. 

"Sango," he said, almost startling her. "Could you do something for me? Just for tonight." 

She tried not to look like she grew uneasy at his words, and instead preoccupied herself with pulling pins from her hair, a brown that appreared black in the darkness, letting it fall section by section to cascade past her shoulders and down her back. 

"Take your makeup off." 

A pin dropped to the floor and she reached up to touch the delicate paint adorning her face. 

"Why?" 

"I want to see your face...as it's meant to be seen." 

Her hands fisted in the fabric of her robes. "Naraku always told me that even this makeup didn't hide how unsightly I was," she reminisced. 

Miroku offered her his sleeve, which she reluctantly took and began to swipe at her cheeks. 

"Naraku says a lot of things. Most of which are either lies, or complete piles of bullshit." 

For a few more minutes the only sound was that of Sango rubbing her face against the fabric of his robes. 

Silently, she tipped her face up to his, slightly red from the friction, and she flushed again with embarrassment and nervousness under his gaze. 

"I apologize, Miroku-sama. My appearance is-" 

"Shh," he interrupted, silencing her. "You're beautiful." 

Without a word, he reached his hand toward her closed fist and it loosened at his touch, allowing his fingers to twine around hers. 

"Everything just feels...different with you. I don't know how to explain it," she confessed, confused. 

"I think I have that same feeling," he admitted with a smile. 

"Miroku-sama," she said, squeezing his hand. "I think...I think that I'd like to feel this way all the time." 

She didn't know it, but she had been unconsciously leaning towards him as she spoke those words. He shivered as her breath grazed his lips, and he waited intently for her to close in on him. 

It never happened. She had paused halfway to him, her lips slightly parted and breathless. 

He smiled inwardly. She was so tainted, yet so innocent. As he regarded her flushed, beige toned skin, deep brown eyes and felt the warmth of her breath on his face he knew that he was witnessing true beauty. 

Should she? 

His eyes seemed to say yes. 

He placed a gentle finger under her chin and eased her forward, until finally her mouth came in contact with his. 

She seemed to pause at the feeling, suddenly extremely aware of their position and uncertain of what to do. He coaxed her with his lips, moving the hand under her chin to rest along her jaw line and in her hair. 

A small, shaking hand rested on his shoulder while another snaked around to gently press at the base of his neck, under the small tail that was his own bound mass of hair. 

Her lips met his, again and again in the same manner, until he sharply angled his head and she gasped in surprise, opening her mouth to him. His tongue captured hers, softly at first, coaxing her, accustoming her to the rush of her senses as they all sent several messages to her brain at once. 

How he so wanted to please her, to make her feel loved. She had had enough of selling her body, she deserved to experience a true kiss, a true caress, and he was going to be the one to teach her, even though he was still learning as well. He wanted her to know that this was so much more to him, that every kiss should bear much more meaning than what she had known all her life. 

He could feel how she struggled to control her breathing, how her body was growing ever so warm under his touch. Their bodies were close, though he had an inkling that that wasn't the reason he felt so hot. 

As he trailed gentle fingers across her back, careful not to irritate the damaged skin, she seemed to melt into his embrace. Slowly, he pulled away from her and reached to brush her bangs away from her eyes, which were closed under long lashes. Her breaths came short and erratic. 

"My heart," she whispered, now regarding him with half-lidded eyes. "It's beating...so hard." 

Her fingers gripped loosely onto the front of his robes as he reclaimed her mouth yet again. Immediately, her tongue plunged into his mouth and she kissed him, with renewed vigour and passion. Her mind was everywhere at once, but focused on him, as she grew delirious with the sudden onslaught of emotion. 

When they parted, she softly pressed another feather light kiss to his lips as she relaxed into him, her head falling onto the front of his shoulder and resting just underneath his chin. 

He drew a long breath and exhaled deeply, entwining his fingers with Sango's once more. 

The sound of her steadied breathing eventually lulled him to sleep. 

-- 

A quiet knocking at the door the next morning startled Sango awake. She looked above her and saw an already awake Miroku looking towards the door and back to her curiously. Pressing her index finger to his lips, she straightened and composed herself before sliding open the door. 

She looked down to see Kanna, calm and silent as always. 

"Izumi...step outside for a moment," she whispered, looking past Sango into the room to see a 'sleeping' Miroku. She closed the door quickly. 

"Were you able to take it, Izumi?" the pale girl asked, staring at her emotionlessly. 

Sango bit her lip. "No...I was unable to." 

"Why," Kanna demanded. "It was Naraku-sama's order." 

"Aren't you forgetting Kanna? She doesn't follow the rules." 

The voice sent a thousand chills up her spine and poison through her blood. 

She whirled around, coming face to face with the man that haunted her nightmares. 

"Naraku!" she exclaimed. "What - What are you doing?" 

Ignoring her question, his hand shot forward and latched onto her wrist painfully. "Look at you, I had almost forgotten how plain and unsightly your face was." 

"Let - go - of me," she spat, wincing. "I have a patron right in this room!" 

"I know exactly who's in that room," Naraku said icily. "I should have know something was suspicious when someone would reduce themselves to laying with you." 

"What are you talking about?" Sango responded angrily, trying to pry his fingers apart. Her hand was fast turning purple. 

"So you want to be _free_do you?" he laughed. "And he wants to take you away from here? Away from me? Why, I'm the best thing that ever happened to you!" 

"No way in hell," Sango spat, glaring. "You are the worst thing that has happened in my life, and to every other girl here. You'll burn in hell for this." 

Sharply, he twisted her arm into the air, and she cried out, feeling the pain shoot up her arm and into her shoulder. 

"I know you helped that other wench somehow. And because of that, I'll make sure you never leave this place, at least, not alive." He threatened, eyes glinting. His hand raised. 

Sango grit her teeth. Surely he wouldn't...not in the middle of the corridor. 

An arm swung out of nowhere and knocked Naraku's to the side. 

"Shit," he cursed, dropping Sango's arm and grabbing his own. 

"Sango!" Miroku exclaimed, catching her as she was thrust from Naraku's grasp. 

"Miroku-sama, no, you shouldn't have done that," Sango said weakly, gripping onto his sleeve. 

"She's right you know, that was a dire mistake," Naraku said, reaching under his blazer. 

"Leave," he said silkily, the barrel of the revolver aimed on the space between Miroku's eyes. His finger tightened on the trigger. 

"Miroku-sama, do what he says!" Sango cried, trying to block the path between Naraku's gun and him. 

"I'm not leaving without you," Miroku argued, sweat forming at the back of his neck. 

"Yes, you are," Naraku cut in, his voice smug. "Leave her." 

He took a step forward. 

"Please, Miroku-sama, go," Sango repeated, frustrated. "He'll kill you!" 

"I don't want him to kill you instead!" Miroku countered. 

"If you don't leave right now," Naraku interrupted, shifting the gun towards Sango's head, "I'll kill her right in front of you, and then kill you. Would you like that better?" 

"Naraku...you're a sick bastard..." Miroku said, backing up a few steps. 

"Or so I've heard you say. If I ever see you here again...I'll kill her on the spot," he threatened, as Miroku eventually moved out of sight. "Kanna," he addressed the girl standing silent and stiff throughout it all. She bowed with a nod and left in Miroku's direction. 

"And you," Naraku said, now turning to Sango. She fisted her hands again as the hilt of the pistol connected with her cheek, immediately drawing blood. He seized her arm, and jerked her forwards in the opposite direction towards the back of the house, and outside. 

Sango felt sick to her stomach as she was pulled towards the cellar doors, which were normally locked and chained. Now they were anything but, and lay open, as if waiting for something to be thrown in. 

He grabbed her with both hands, and leaned forward so that their noses nearly touched. 

"If he comes back here again...I _will_ kill him. It isn't like it would matter to anyone...except you." 

He abruptly pushed her through the cellar doors. Her back collided painfully with the steps down, and she slid along these until she met the dusty, dirty cellar floor. 

He looked down at her one last time, satisfied, and then both heavy wooden doors were slammed shut, leaving only two or three slivers of light shining through. 

The sound of chains being wrapped around the handles echoed in her ears, until she slowly fell out of consciousness. 

She didn't fight to stay awake. 

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_Painted: A Hint Of Her Mystery - July 21st, 2004_

**Fireblade K'Chona -** I'm wondering if she'll escape too...Oh yeah, I'm the one who's supposed to work all of that out. Thank you for another review! This chapter was a teeny bit longer.****

**Lady Sango 7 **- Oh, Trojan Horse viruses are pretty brutal. I hope you're able to get your computer fixed. You know, I recently reviewed all the chapters of one of your stories (Depths of the Damned) and I left such short one-liners and stuff like that, and now I feel totally guilty. I don't deserve all your praise really, thank you so much!****

**animefreak808 - **I must...finish...this...story. Well, the truth is it's for the YtN fanfiction contest, and I've never entered a contest before so I thought it would be fun. Unfortunately, there's the problem of deadlines, which lead to 'I must update' moments. Heh, sorry for my rant there, but I'm just assuring you that this story will be done by July 31st.****

**LiL psYch0 -** Filipinos unite! Yeah! Alright, okay, enough about that. Technically it is Naraku's own doing, but he's a silly bumface so his solution is torture/violence/ etc. Thank you for faithfully reviewing. =D****

**Sango lover 123 - **Ah, apology accepted. I thought I was overly rude when replying to you, but thanks for apologizing, that just made my entire day. I'm glad you also like my story, I was pleasantly surprised when you said that. Thank you for reviewing.****

**firebird5 - **I know, women put up with so much. Good thing equality rights are now _very_ important. Makes me grateful to live in the 'future.' Anyway, disregarding my weirdness now, thank you for being such a good reviewer! Because those are so rare these days. =D****

**Rin the Kitsune - **Thank you! That comment really meant a lot to me, because I was really trying to string events along as semi-realistically as possible, though I wasn't sure I did just that. Thank you for your review!****

**SangoLancer200 - **Well, I don't mind your age as long as you enjoy my writing. Sorry if this came too late (which I think it did) but hopefully you'll get to read the finished product when you get back. Have fun in the Philippines!****

**Katrina5 **- Every review gives me a good feeling because at least people thought enough of my work to actually sit down, type out a comment, and post it. You've supported this story from the near beginning and I'd like to thank you for all that you do to help me out.****

**Aamalie - **I think I should've named this chapter, "The Act of the Dancing Tongues," and it would have ruined the entire chapter because I'd laugh. And laugh. Man, I need to grow up. Anyway, thanks as always for your beta work although I distracted you with guides to writing trashy romances. And I look forward to your makeout scene as well.


	8. Deliverance

_Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha or Blink 182's 'Asthenia'

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**Painted **

VII. Deliverance 

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Should I go back, should I go back, should I? 

I feel alone and tired 

Should I go back, should I go back, should I? 

This time I don't want to 

- 

_February 1947_

"Things have really picked up here in Kyoto," Kagome said softly as she walked through the market. "This city really was lucky, compared to the state of industries and transportation in most of the other larger cities. There's been food shortages and everything!" 

"Be that as it may, I don't see why keep taking the risk of coming back here," a man walking beside her snorted, as he looked around at the passersby with narrowed eyes. 

"I told you Inuyasha, we're looking for Sango-chan! I've been going crazy worrying about her!" 

"We always come here to look for her. What makes today any different?" he scoffed. 

She glared at him. "Why are you always so insensitive?" 

"And why didn't you just bring her with you again?" he continued. "We could have avoided doing this all together." 

Kagome looked away from him, suddenly picking at her nails. "Because...Naraku dislikes her the most...and she didn't want to risk jeopardizing my escape." 

"So she'd rather stay there than get out?" 

"Stop it Inuyasha...she did it for me...and I still feel guilty even to this day." 

He pursed his lips, noticing her distraught expression. 

"Well don't, it wasn't your fault," he said firmly. 

"I'm not going to be completely happy until I know she's safe. I can't be with my parents, my brother and you at home in my village every without thinking about her," she confessed with a deep sigh. 

"I hate war." 

"I do too," he agreed with a shudder. "I don't think I'll ever forget what I saw out there. I should have died. I know it." 

Kagome looked to his hands which were tightened into rigid fists. 

"If this is about retreating...Inuyasha..." she said quietly. 

"Don't blame yourself for wanting to live." 

-- 

Sango lay sprawled across her bed in the late afternoon. 

Rumours were circulating amongst the girls that Naraku was in an especially sour mood as of late. Of course, that wasn't very surprising news to her at all, although she was a bit curious about it. The reason didn't seem to be her for once. 

She had a small break in which everyone was supposed to be preparing for that evening, but she opted for a nap in her kimono and doing a half-fast job of her makeup instead. 

Although it was emphasized how she should look refined and dainty, she thought it was impossible to do that and be a whore at the same time. 

Her cynicism had returned at full impact. She lived in an environment that preached that. Everyone was motivated by self-indulgent, base concerns, and most thoughts she had were negative and pessimistic. She had regressed back into the mind set that people were selfish, crude animals, who disregarded the well-being of others for the advancement and pursuit of their own pleasure. 

At first, someone had tried to draw her out of this dark world, the best way he could, and succeeded. But that someone was quickly and abruptly torn away from her, in such a way that he could not return or else she, or even both of them, would die. She laughed bitterly at the fact that someone could actually come to care for her in such a way that her life actually meant something. 

It had been over a year, but she still remembered everything about him. His name was Miroku. He stood a few inches taller than her, and had deep blue eyes that pierced her with his gaze. Whenever he was near, she felt nervous and excited, and when he touched her, it was as though warmth sprung from his fingers to her skin. When his lips touched hers, a thousand emotions rushed through her head at one time. She had almost forgotten his kiss. Almost. 

She should be happy, really. He had the sense to not come barging in here and get himself killed. He was trying to protect both of them. Well, to the best of his ability anyway. 

Thinking back to the last time she'd seen him, an immediate wave of sadness passed over her as she relived the way it had ended. 

The cellar. If she had ever thought she was claustrophobic before, she was now. Just a mere mention of the word forcefully reminded her of the pitch black, dingy, dirty room below the ground, where rats ran over her feet and spiders crawled over her fingers. She had spent nearly two days in there before a bright light appeared above her and she was hauled, confused, weak and shaking, to the surface by Kagura and another girl she'd caught glimpses of during meal times. 

From that day on, the fantasies that she would soon die and be rid of all this misery returned. Maybe that was Naraku's goal. 

The truth, simply put, was that she was sick of the curve balls life continually threw at her. Being taken here in the first place. Being beaten and abused. She probably hated the blood most. The blood staining the water as she showered. The blood dripping to the floor after being hit in the stomach to prevent her from carrying a child. Blood in its entirety. 

Sometimes, at night, she would close her eyes and trail her fingers over her lips, remembering him. It was sad, because (and an absurd thought this was, really) she thought she could actually see herself falling in love - true love - with Miroku. If she hadn't already. 

-- 

"Inuyasha, do you think Mother would like this?" Kagome asked, showing him a hand painted set of plates. 

"I _thought_ we were looking for your friend?" 

Kagome sighed, putting the plates back down on the display, much to the disappointment of the vendor. 

"Night is almost here. That's when we'll look for her. I'm just trying to get my mind off of worrying. And mother always said she wanted some nice china from the city," she added as an afterthought. 

"Whatever," Inuyasha rolled his eyes. He shuffled over to another display when suddenly someone pushed past the thinning crowd and bumped into him. 

"Hey - what the hell?" Inuyasha said rudely at the offender, who was another, slightly taller man. wearing worn and slightly dirty robes. 

"Apologies, my good man," he said in a deep baritone, with a hand on his shoulder which Inuyasha eyed warily. 

"Yeah, whatever," he replied, backing up. 

The man quickly made his way past Inuyasha, suddenly in a rush. Inuyasha simply stared after him in disbelief, when he realized something. 

"Hey, come back here!" he shouted, shaking his fist in the air. "You damn thief!" 

Inuyasha pushed past the crowd, the thief hadn't got that much of a lead on him. "Move it!" he said as he shoved someone else aside. 

"Inuyasha!" Kagome cried, running through the dent, apologizing to people that were unfortunately in his path of destruction. "Sorry about that," she said to another shocked civilian. "He gets like that sometimes." 

By that time, Inuyasha had managed to catch up with the pickpocket, tackling him to the ground. He turned him over roughly and grabbed him by the collar, preparing to punch him squarely in the face when Kagome's screaming in the background stopped him. Luckily they had run into a less busy part of town where onlookers quickly shuffled away with a meaningful glance (or glare). 

"Wait, Inuyasha! Don't do anything yet!" 

"Why not?" he retorted, shaking the man by the front of his robes. 

Kagome didn't answer, and instead wedged in next to Inuyasha to scrutinize the offender at a closer view. 

"He looks...familiar..." 

Inuyasha narrowed his eyes to slits. "If he's one of those bastards from when -" 

"No, no..." Kagome quieted him. 

"Hi there," she said, finally addressing the defeated victim. After staring at him for a long time, Inuyasha began to get impatient. 

"So?" 

"I know his face," she said strangely. "I've seen him before...I just can't place it." 

"I'll say it again Kagome, if he's one of _them_, I'll beat him to a pulp." 

"Inuyasha, calm down! You think every man who looks at me is 'one of them' " Kagome sniped. 

"You tell him that!" he argued. The man was still trying to get out from under him. 

"You do know that you are committing a violent act against a holy man!" the captive was insisting. 

"A holy man..." Kagome repeated. "He - he's wearing the robes of a monk...but not exactly...perhaps one in training?" 

The thief looked up at this. "Your female companion has more sense than you, animal, please release me." 

"More sense than I do, huh?" Inuyasha muttered. "I bet you_ are_ one of them," he growled in a low voice. "Bastards picking up whores." 

An unreadable emotion flashed through the man's eyes. 

"Ah, you're hesitating!" Inuyasha declared triumphantly. "Kagome, he's one of them!" 

As he pulled his arm back to punch him, a hand closed around his fist, catching it inches from the man's face. 

"If I knew any better..." he said through gritted teeth. "I'd think that your lady friend over there was a whore." 

"You take that back!" 

"But I don't care if she was or not, because she has more manners than you." 

Inuyasha began to curse under his breath. "Why ... you -" 

"Furthermore," he added with a dark smile. "I have seen a prostitute....once...and I fell in love with her." 

"Why? Because she'll actually - " 

"Sango-chan!" Kagome gasped. 

Three things happened at once. Inuyasha tried to punch the man, Kagome rushed to stop him, and the receiver looked up in surprise at Sango's name. 

Luckily, she managed to shove Inuyasha to the side and he ended up punching dirt. 

"What the hell!" he groaned. 

"You - you know Sango-chan! I remember...What's your name?" she asked frantically, ignoring her companion's complaints. 

"Miroku," he said quickly, sitting up. "But more importantly, do you know how Sango is?" 

Her features seemed to droop. "I used to work for Naraku as well, Sango was my closest friend." 

"And?" he pressed. 

"I escaped two years ago...she didn't come with me," she said, starting to unknowingly nibble at her thumbnail. 

"Did you ask her to?" 

"Yes." 

"She said no?" Miroku asked in disbelief. 

"Not really..." Kagome bit her lip. 

"She's still there...Why didn't she go with you?" He struggled to keep his emotions in check. 

"She refused!" Kagome exclaimed. "Because she didn't want to risk getting me caught!" 

"Why would she have anything to do with getting you caught?" 

"Naraku hates her, and - " 

She drew a long breath. 

"She told me that she was seen with you earlier that day by Kanna...Naraku's servant...and she was taken in for punishment before the time she was normally suppposed to...She couldn't have come even if she wanted to." 

He almost collapsed onto the ground again. 

"My fault again, isn't it...I can't stop thinking that she'd have been better off without me." 

"No..." Kagome said. "Don't say that. Sango-chan, she was - you made her very happy. That's more than she ever hoped for." 

-- 

"The new constitution is coming into effect in three months!" An outraged Naraku slammed his palm onto the desk, causing the papers on it to shudder slightly. 

"Just look at these terms...Emperor loses all government power? Symbolic my ass. And this, sovereign power lies within the people?" He made a noise of discontentment. 

"Division between the three powers...Judiciary, legislative and executive. Leading war and maintaining army prohibited..." 

He threw down the thin stack of documents he had been holding, and they fluttered to the ground. "Pick those up," he added to Kagura. 

The woman sitting in the corner of the room stood with a huff and bent down to pick up the fallen papers, whilst Naraku continued his raving. 

"Kagura, this is an outrage! There has to be a way..." 

She had begun to ignore him when she looked up, hearing a sound knock at the main doors. 

Both just stared as another pounding shook the door in its frame. 

"Masuyo Naraku, we have a warrant for your arrest. You are to be tried for war crimes. 

"War crimes? This is hardly a war crime." 

Kagura let a small laugh escape, as well as the papers she had just picked up. "Looks like it's the end Naraku. You can't buy them off any longer." 

"You - " he spat, moving to grab her wrist. The door exploded out of place, a flurry of commotion erupting as they seized him and Kagura, snapping handcuffs around their wrists. 

"Search the entire area! Get every last person in here - alive." 

Another wave of pandemonium swept over the estate as the group of law enforcers fanned out in and around the building. 

"Funny, though, isn't is Naraku? That when you're being brought down, so is everyone you forced under your will," Kagura said spitefully as she was pushed from the room. 

-- 

"What's going on?" Sango asked from her spot on her bed, peeking through a crack in the dirty curtain that hung over the window. "Damn, I can't see a thing! How about you?" 

A girl on her hands and knees peeking through a crack in the door made a squeaking noise with her throat. 

"There's...there's officers all over! They're searching the cabins." 

Sango jumped as there was a crashing noise and a scream. 

"Are they helping or not?" 

"It seems like they're arresting the girls...they're putting handcuffs on them," she said in her tense, high voice. 

"What?" Sango asked, surprised as the scrambled across the room next to the other girl. 

"Some of them are resisting..." she observed. 

A few tense moments passed before the door was nearly slammed off its hinges as it was thrown open. 

Sango quickly held up her hands and bowed as the metal cuffs were snapped around her small wrists. 

She was hoisted to her feet and pushed outside, merging into a line of girls. It was ironic how they were bound with chains, while being led to a jaded salvation. 

-- 

"That's the last time you saw her?" 

Kagome and Miroku sat along a dirty bench at the edge of the square. Inuyasha had taken to pacing in front of them occasionally stopping to interrupt the storytelling. 

"I didn't want to risk her life...she didn't want to risk mine..." Miroku explained as he recalled his last moments with her. 

Kagome smiled slightly. "That is how Sango-chan is. She never wants to do something in expense of another person's well-being." 

Inuyasha had stopped again, standing between them with crossed arms. 

"Enough about your sob story, why don't we actually go and _find_ her instead of talking about her like she's _dead _already?" 

Both ignored him. 

"So what have you been doing all this time?" 

"Working - I've been doing some odd work - and collecting. I was trying to horde enough money that I'd be able to bribe some sort of official into finally shutting Naraku down. Other than that...I've been living above one of the merchant shops in the slums." 

"You forgot to mention pick pocketing," Inuyasha interrupted dully. 

"I also...tried to find Sango's family...and tell them that she's alive, and hasn't forgotten them. But I was searching with no direction. I couldn't find one person who knew a Taijiya -" 

"What did you say?" Inuyasha spoke up from his brooding. "What's the surname?" 

"Taijiya," Miroku repeated. 

"Does she have a brother?" 

"Yes, but he's still in grade school -" 

Inuyasha's eyebrows furrowed. "It must've been her father." 

Kagome looked to Inuyasha in surprise. "You know him?" 

"You could say that." He looked away from her. "I was in his platoon in battle - he was a good commander, strong, doesn't let his emotions get in the way." 

"_You_ were in the military?" Inuyasha glared at Miroku and he held up a hand in defeat. 

"Do you have a problem with that? I know what you're thinking, and the whole time I was in service, not once did I lower myself to accepting a 'comfort woman.' " 

"Anyway," Kagome cut in. "What happened to him?" 

His expression grew sombre again. "I knew we were going to be overrun - so did he. But he was a samurai...a servant of the emperor. And so he - " 

Her mouth opened slightly as she sharply inhaled. 

"He took his life. Out of dishonour," she said slowly. 

Inuyasha nodded. 

Miroku cringed inwardly. Sango loved her father. She always spoke of her admiration of his pride and wisdom. He shook the despair from his thoughts and focused on Inuyasha, who was still speaking. 

"Most families were forced into slave labour or service to the military, and I was able to contact Kagome's when I returned. It also turns out that Naraku was involved in providing the military comfort women." 

Kagome shook her head, not wanting to imagine her parents slaving in some dingy manufacturing plant. 

"Do you know what happened to the slaves when the war ended?" she asked, hoping she would hear a good answer. 

"I don't know much, but I do know that when the Allied occupation started, most were released, like yours. But there is a new constitution coming into effect...I don't know all of the conditions behind it though..other than the demilitarization of the country." 

Kagome looked elsewhere, her gaze eventually travelling over to Miroku, in his worn robes fringed at the edges. 

"The new constitution... Oh - I just remembered! With the new constitution coming into effect soon, you can start practising your religion again! It separates Shinto and the state." 

She beamed at the realization in Miroku's face, but it disappeared a moment later. 

He looked away. "I suppose. But, for now, she comes first." 

There was a wave of silence as all simply thought about what they were to do, until Inuyasha looked up at the sky above them and the street lamps alight around the buildings. 

"It's dark now..Kagome...why don't we do something about this?" 

She ran a quick hand through her hair, pushing it away from her face. "Yes, we've done nothing long enough." 

Her eyes looked up for a moment, lost in thought before she straightened and stood up. 

"I know - let's go to the red light district...it's where I worked as a streetwalker, remember?" 

"How could I forget?" Inuyasha said with a twitch. He began to walk away. "Well - then let's go!" 

"Wait...I can't...if they're there they'll recognize me...Miroku can't either..." She slowly turned around to eye Inuyasha. "You have to go." 

He looked scandalized. "There is no way I'm going to waltz in there whore shopping," he said indignantly. 

"You did it before, you can do it again!" Kagome argued. 

"But that was different, it was for you!" he said as if it settled the matter. 

"How is it any different!" 

He pressed his lips together making an incoherent noise of frustration. 

"Fine. Let's just get going." 

-- 

Miroku looked at their surroundings, a dimly lit, moderately busy street in the transition area between downtown and the slums. "Is this -" 

"This is the place where we used to work. We were called streetwalkers," Kagome said, gesturing to the intersection. "People stopped in their cars to-" 

"I don't _see_ anyone working," Inuyasha interrupted, stating the obvious. 

Just then, the threesome's attention was geared elsewhere as four or five vehicles with steel wiring across the windows roared past, bringing up clouds of dust. 

Kagome coughed. "What was that?" 

"More arrests probably. They're cracking down nicely," Inuyasha commented. 

"Let's go to the brothel," Kagome declared determinedly. "If they're not here, they have to be there!" 

"I'm not giving up yet, Sango-chan," she muttered under her breath. 

-- 

They had just pulled up a few yards away from the house, hoping the darkness of the night concealed their vehicle well enough. 

"It's awfully dark...and there are no lights on..." Kagome said worriedly as they approached in the dark, leaving Kagome's family truck on the side of the path. 

She poked Inuyasha in the back. "Well, go on!" 

"I am," he said with a huff before stalking off in the direction of the dark house. 

Miroku waited uncharacteristically impatient beside Kagome, who also was unable to keep still. They heard footsteps and saw Inuyasha's frame trudging towards them, and she ran to meet him. 

"There's no one in there," he said shortly. 

"What?" Kagome gasped. 

"There's nothing in there. It's completely totalled. Everything." 

"What's that supposed to mean?" Miroku asked, frustrated. "Did he move them?" 

"No, that couldn't be it," Inuyasha said. "If he did, then why? And why destroy the entire place in the process?" 

"Well, maybe he knew that arrests were being made..." 

"Wait," Kagome interrupted. "Maybe they raided this place. The cars we saw earlier - " 

What will happen to them though?" Miroku interrupted, tired of asking questions. He just wanted to know if Sango was alright. 

"I - I don't know. When I left, Inuyasha took me to a hospital, and then to my home. But they are really not at fault. There's no reason to imprison them." 

She tapped a finger to her chin. "Most likely, they'll be vaccinated and tested...check their records...then released. I hope. They will probably want to get them out...the hospitals are still incredibly busy dealing with the aftermath of the bombing, believe it or not." 

"Will we be able to get in to the hospital?" 

She sighed heavily. "I don't know Miroku." 

"But where will she go when she's released? Back to her village? Do you know where it is?" 

Kagome squeezed her temples between her fingers. "All I know is that she's from a rural area. The outskirts of the city. A farming village." 

"There are hundreds of those!" 

"Exactly." 

He turned away sharply, shutting his own eyes closed in the dark. 

"But at least we know she's safe now, Miroku!" 

"I know," he whispered, "and I'm thankful for that." 

As his eyes adjusted to the dark, he looked towards the house, unsettling as it was when full of people as it was when dark and deserted. 

"Still...I want to see her again." 

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_Painted: Deliverance - July 27th 2004_

Sorry for any 'errors' and review responses that make no sense but I'm really, truly, panicked and rushing now. As you read this, I'm probably pounding my keyboard frantically. As always, thank you and much love to you all. 

**Lady Sango 7 - **That review was perfectly fine. It didn't seem short at all... compared to...my reviews...Ugh. Anyway, thank you for all your comments, as usual. You know I love reading your reviews. Oh, and I was planning to maybe do an Inu/Kag side story one day, as a one shot, key word 'planning,' so ...when it comes to me you know what that means. ****

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**Katrina5 - **Hmm...it's winding down, as anti-climatic as it is. But I'm really really panicked now because I have less than a week left to wrap up. And since it's mostly happy goings on for the duration of the ending, well, there goes all the angst. You know I can't believe some of the dumb mistakes I made on the draft, I'm so glad you caught them. I guess that's what happens when your peak writing hours are at 2 - 5 AM. Thank you as always.****

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**Kitten Kisses - **Thank you so much! I appreciate every review I get for this story. They make me all...happy. And you saved it on your favourites too! You are automatically super-cool.****

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**Fireblade K'Chona -** Still hope you love it. Until the very, very, anti-climatic end. And a very cute quote at the end...I always have to say it out loud, with the w's and everything. Thank you for reviewing!****

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**animefreak808 - **Damn you just reminded me to check the date...and I saw that it was the 27th today. I'm panicking now. But thank you for reviewing...and reminding me of the few days I have left to finish this.****

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**pNay iN a b0x - **Haha, thank you for your vote of confidence...but I have so...little time left. It's dwindling away. I knew I shouldn't have wasted all that time killing that spider. My pop-up blocker blocked the review box as well...bah. 

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**Rin the Kitsune - **Let's hope that they torture him in prison! Heh, for me that would be a bit...morbid to write. I write too much torture already. I don't need to start writing and enjoying it too. Thank you for review! I appreciate every last one.****

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I just realized I never indent my paragraphs. It's too late to fix for this story but for any new ones I start...I will actually remember to indent. Even if I never do it for school. Hopefully it's not too...unsightly.


	9. Asthenia

_Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha or Blink 182's 'Asthenia'_

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**Painted**

VIII. Asthenia 

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Should I go back, should I go back, should I? 

I hope I won't forget you 

- 

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_March 1947_

Her arm still swelled from the injections she had been given at the hospital, but she kept on running. She didn't know where she was going and why, but she just felt like moving. It was mid-afternoon in the city, one of the busiest points of the day, proving that the economy was on a steady climb. 

Rubbing her arm up and down, she wandered through the markets and businesses, letting it sink in that she was now free and completely on her own. 

Could she find her home? Was it even possible when she didn't even know where she was now, aside from downtown Kyoto? Deep inside, she knew that things always had a way of turning life upside down for her and for that reason, she pushed all thought of finding _him_ out of her mind. 

A little boy, who looked not a day past eight, approached her and tugged at the hem of her kimono. 

"Hello," Sango greeted. "Are you lost?" 

The young boy shook his head. 

"Here," he said in a shy voice, offering her single sprig of a magnolia blossom. "My name is Akio. My sister said I could give this to you." 

"Really?" Sango said with a smile, looking towards the corner where a girl about her age stood with a basket of flowers. "Why?" 

"I told her you were pretty," he confessed with a blush. "And you look sad." 

Sango's eyes softened as she took the flower and tucked it into her hair above her ear. "Well, I am kind of sad, but this really cheered me up," she said gently, bending to his level. 

"Me too," the little boy continued. "Our mother is very sick, so Onee-chan has to sell her flowers to make some money." 

"Well, I'm sorry but I have no money that I can give you," Sango apologized. "But I hope everything works out and that your Mother gets better, okay?" 

He nodded profusely, blushing a bit. 

"Thank you very much for the flower, it smells wonderful," she said, and kissed him briefly on the cheek. He beamed at her, before weaving through the crowds back to the flower merchant. 

"You're welcome." 

Sango watched as he hugged his sister around the legs and she patted him on the head, and memories tugged at her mind. 

_"I'm going to miss you too Kohaku. But I will be back to visit. I promise."_

"My brother," she whispered, clutching a hand to her heart. 

Where would she go? She had no money, no form of transportation, she was lost, and she didn't know anyone in the city she could go to for help. 

-- 

It had been close to a week since Miroku had gone on the fruitless search for Sango that had yielded nothing, save for the fact that she was gone from Naraku's hands and was somewhere in the city, free. Still distraught, but overwhelmingly relieved, Kagome had to return to her village, taking Inuyasha with her. She had left him with a reassurance that the both of them, much to Inuyasha's disgruntlement, would be back again within the next two weeks, to run a few monthly errands. 

Miroku wandered through the alleyways of the slums, as he usually did in the morning hours while on his way to the town. As he worked during the day, he procured a set of western style clothes, complete with the pants and collared shirt, which he opted for instead of his priestly robes, which were nothing but a costume now. 

This time, as he walked the familiar route, with a few homeless huddled around oil drums and sitting along the walls of buildings, the form of a thin boy stood out from everything else. There were bags under his eyes and his complexion was pasty and pale. He looked up and met Miroku's eyes briefly, before striding purposefully in his direction. 

Miroku smirked knowingly when the boy collided with him, as he felt a telltale tug at his pockets. As the boy turned to apologize, Miroku grabbed his arm firmly. 

"Please hand me back my money, young lad," he said with a brittle smile. The boy looked at him with wide eyes, and then suddenly attempted to bolt. Miroku's grip only tightened around his arm and he gave in. 

"Here," the boy said quietly, stuffing the wad of bills into Miroku's outstretched palm. "Let me go." 

"Wait," the older man said, still not letting go, though his hold loosened. "Are you here alone?" 

"What does it look like," he replied, though not in a rude manner. "Of course I am. I'm sorry for trying to steal from you, okay?" 

"Here," Miroku said shortly, pulling a few coins and notes from his pockets and dropping them into his hands. He looked up wordlessly. 

"Why are you -" 

"Just walk with me for a minute." 

The young boy fell into step beside Miroku, continuing on his trek into town. 

"So...I guess I'll introduce myself. My name is Miroku," he said, offering his hand, which the youth took awkwardly, shaking it briefly and then dropping it. 

"Umm...hello. I guess you can call me Ko-" 

He paused, hesitating, and Miroku raised his eyebrow, looking at him expectantly. 

"Kotaro." 

They stared at each other for a few moments before Kotaro's gaze dropped to the ground in front of him. 

"Why did you start stealing, Kotaro?" Miroku asked with an air of casualness. 

"Why do you want to know?" the boy replied accusingly. 

"Because if you're caught, they'll throw you in prison. You look old enough to know that. And trust me, prison is not a nice place at all." 

"Even compared to this dump?" Kotaro muttered. 

"Yes, compared to this. Worse," Miroku said pointedly. 

"Listen, why is this so important?" he whined. 

Miroku sighed loud and dramatically. "I don't think that it's safe for teenage boys to be roaming the streets of Kyoto stealing from others. I should report you! Imagine the tragedy that would befall us. They should all be put in _jail_." 

"Okay, you win," Kotaro sighed. He stuffed his hands as deep into his pockets as he could. 

"I was freed from slave labour about six months ago, my father was drafted into the military, I have no damn idea where he is, and my mom died from exhaustion one day. I don't know the details because I wasn't even with her when she did. The officers separated us." 

"Well...I'm...sorry for your loss," Miroku said in an unrecognizable tone. 

"I have a sister..." Kotaro began in a quiet voice. 

"What was that?" 

"Oh...nothing...just...something in my throat," he coughed. He knew he had said it loud enough for Miroku to hear, but he did not pursue the subject. 

'That's all he needs to know about my parents anyway,' Kotaro thought to himself. ' Anything else and...Well, I'm not looking for pity.' 

"So, where are we going?" the young boy asked in an attempt to make the silence less uncomfortable for him. 

"To the city. We're going to find you some real work, okay?" 

Kotaro shook his head in disbelief. "What am I to you?" 

"I just don't want to see any more young people getting into stealing and things like that in the slums. We have enough of that already." 

The youth turned the coins in his pockets between his fingers as the hustle and bustle of the city rose in his ears. 

-- 

"What's a young flower like you doing in the slums?" another scratchy voice asked as a dirty hand reached for the skirt of her kimono. "Spare a bit of change?" 

Sango half-heartedly tugged her skirt away from the hand. She had been feeling strangely dizzy about an hour's walk into the heart of the city, and now in the dingy slums, the fumes and scent of garbage was heavily affecting her vision and co-ordination. 

"I have no money," she said vaguely, wobbling her way across the alleys. 

She rubbed her arm out of habit. It couldn't be the drugs that were making her drowsy, could it? Wouldn't they have told her? Or were they in such a rush to make space for new patients that they simply pumped her full of any old drug lying around. 

She stopped and leaned heavily against a wall, rubbing her hands on her face in an attempt to bring her mind to focus. 

Eventually, she found herself sliding down the wall to a seated position beside a stack of large empty crates someone had obviously put out as trash. She brought her knees to her chest, and wrapped herself into ball as small as she could. 

Suddenly she felt so cold. 

-- 

"You call that 'real work'?" Kotaro said laughingly as he walked ahead of Miroku back to their makeshift homes in the slums. 

"Hey, it's honest work," Miroku retorted with a small smile. "And you can't get arrested for it." 

"True," the boy remarked. "But I think that even if gutting fish was illegal...no one would arrest you for it because you'd smell so bad." 

"Come to think of it...we probably smell horrible," Miroku added. 

"We do," the young boy nodded in agreement. 

Miroku watched as the boy walked into the fast darkening alley and the familiar area he had seem him in earlier, the light emanating from the still-burning oil drums causing the shadows to deepen in the early evening. 

Even though he lived in the same area, Miroku couldn't help but feel uncomfortable. At night he heard the sirens and the scuffles, and somehow, being in an actual room helped him feel a tad safer, though it didn't really help nonetheless. 

"Kotaro...are you sure you don't want to spend the night indoors? It'll be cramped...but I don't mind. It's dangerous out here." 

But the boy wasn't listening. Instead, he was staring at something behind a pile of old crates and nudging it with his foot. 

"Hey," he said awkwardly. "Are you okay?" 

"What is it?" Miroku inquired, now curious. 

"There's someone lying here...and they're shaking. I don't think they're sleeping though. It's a girl...I've never seen her here before." 

Wordlessly, the older man had already approached and dropped to his knees beside the form, which was heavily shrouded in a makeshift blanket that was a burlap sack. 

"Are you sure it's okay to move her?" Kotaro asked uneasily. 

Miroku ignored him as he pulled the dirty material away from the figure, revealing a worn and faded kimono that had obviously seen better days. His breath hitched as his eyes darted to the long tresses that spilled onto the dark asphalt, and the single magnolia blossom among them. 

He couldn't contain himself, as quickly and gently as he could, he gripped the girl's shoulders and turned her onto her back. Her eyes were shut, and he could see that her bottom lip was trembling and her arms were wrapped around herself to maintain warmth. 

"Sango..." he breathed. "Damn...Sango, wake up!" He placed a hand under her bangs and to his horror she was burning up terribly. Hauling her to his chest, he desperately rubbed his hands about her back to stop her from shivering. 

She mumbled something incoherently against his shoulder, and he tipped her back to look at her. "Sango...it's me," he said gently, trying to ignore how bloodshot her eyes were. "Remember me?" 

"Which one?" she said in a slurred voice, letting her head droop. "There's an awful lot of you. You smell like fish. Go away." 

"Sango," he said in dismay. "It's Miroku." 

She looked up at him again and a flash of recognition flitted across her face. "Miroku has a brother?" she asked tiredly as she tried to look around. "Tell Miroku-sama I miss him," she sighed, and fell limp once again. 

"No, Sango, keep talking. Don't go to sleep yet, I want you to walk with me, can you do that?" he asked, slinging her arm around his shoulders and securing his own around her waist. He picked up the fallen flower and tucked it into her obi. 

"I'm tired," she murmured sleepily. "And I'm cold." 

"Just walk for a bit, about a block, okay?" Miroku insisted as he hoisted her to her feet and clutched her tightly so she wouldn't collapse. "Stand, Sango." 

She rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand slowly while he struggled to steady her. 

"Kotaro," Miroku called to the boy, who was standing away from them with his hands in his pockets. He hadn't said anything for awhile. "Can you help me out here? Kotaro!" 

The boy jumped as Miroku called his name again. He stared at the two, and hesitated. "What exactly do you need help with?" he said quietly, not meeting his eyes. 

"What does it look like? Please, just help me carry her to my place." 

He hesitated again before walking towards them. "Well...I suppose." 

As Kotaro approached them, Sango's hand dropped from her face and she came face to face with him. 

Miroku watched as she wavered on the spot, and reached out to touch the boy's cheek. Her fingers were inches from his face when he backed up a step, holding his hands out in front of him. 

"It's really you," he managed to say. 

Sango cocked her head to the side, her eyebrows knitting together in confusion. "Is that you...Kohaku? You've really grown." 

With a laboured sigh, her arm fell and her body grew slack at once, catching Miroku by surprise as he bent to the ground and prepared to carry her. He took a second to run over what he had just seen in his head a few times before looking up at the boy, still standing as though frozen. 

"You...you're Kohaku, aren't you?" Miroku said quietly. Though he made no sign he had heard him, his silence confirmed it. 

"Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you say something?" 

He still couldn't muster a response. 

Miroku lifted Sango's small frame into his arms and was prepared to continue walking, when he finally heard Kohaku's voice from behind him. 

"She left us." 

He stopped in his tracks, but did not turn around. 

"She left us when I was only eight years old. She said - she told me to take care of everyone. Our parents are dead. She never came back...She - I thought she hated us." 

His throat felt dry and his voice was coarse. 

Miroku turned around, balancing Sango in his arms, an unreadable expression crossing his features. 

"There are alot of things you don't know." 

-- 

Rain had begun to pound on the single window of Miroku's rented room. Inside, three were squished into the small space. One on the bed, the other sitting next to it, and one standing by the window. 

"A prostitute," Kohaku repeated. 

"That's right." 

"A prostitute." 

"Yes." 

Kohaku turned to the window and pressed his forehead against the cool glass. 

"A prostitute." 

Miroku sighed and replaced the wet cloth on Sango's forehead with another, freshly wrung one. 

"Listen, Kohaku, I know it's a lot to take in, but you need to know." 

"Yeah, I know. Thanks for...telling me," he said, still staring out the spotted window. 

"And it wasn't because she was ashamed, or angry, or had anything against her family, I know for a fact she loved you and your parents more than anything in the world." 

"So then...why?" 

"She couldn't. The man that owned her, that took her away, forbade her to leave. She wanted to see you, especially after the bombs dropped, but she wasn't allowed to." 

"Why wouldn't he let her go...I know my sister is stronger than that, she could have just left, couldn't she?" Kohaku asked, willing his mind to make sense of it all. 

"She couldn't. She was watched there, and if she were caught, there would be consequences." 

"Consequences?" 

"Abuse." 

"Abuse....meaning...he hit her? How can someone do that?" 

"I don't know," Miroku said shortly before his attention turned to a stirring Sango. Her face was flushed, but it was because her temperature was so high. 

"How are you Sango?" he asked worriedly. "Are you still cold?" 

She shifted slightly under the blankets. "A little...but I'm still sweating." 

Slowly, her eyes opened and focused on Miroku above her. "Miroku-sama!" she gasped. "What is - Where am I?" She looked around wildly, trying to sit up. She didn't see Kohaku. 

"Here, drink this," he said, handing her a glass of water. When she had downed it, he pushed her shoulders back down to a lying position. 

"So you remember me, huh?" Miroku asked with a small smile as she weakly wrapped her hands around his. 

"Of course, do you think I would forget?" she smiled too, a slight turn of the corners of her lips. Her hands squeezed his lightly. "I thought I would never see you again." . 

"Sango," he whispered, leaning over her and delicately putting a hand to the side of her face. He placed chaste, breathless kisses on the corners of her lips and the area under her eyes where wet trails of tears were shining. 

She simply stared back at him, a heaviness in her body preventing her from moving, but once his hands were again woven with hers, she gripped onto them as tightly as her tired muscles would allow. 

"Miroku-sama," she said with small grin. "You smell like fish." 

He looked at her endearingly, remembering her smile. "I can't do anything about that right now," he chuckled. "But more importantly, how did you get into the slums?" 

"I can't really remember..." she said. "But I think...I must have had a bad reaction to the vaccines they gave me at the hospital. I walked into the city...and I began to feel sick." 

One of her hands rose to touch the area above her ear. 

"It's okay Sango, I have your flower in a glass," he assured her. 

"Thank you Miroku-sama. A little boy gave it to me in town today - by little I mean under the age of ten," she added at the sight of his questioning look. "He had an older sister." 

She paused, thinking to herself. 

"You know what's strange," Sango said, relaxing into the thin pillow. "I think I had a vision of Kohaku. He should be around....fourteen now," she sighed. "I suppose it could always have been drug-induced. Still, I wonder what he's doing now..." 

At this, Miroku's head snapped around to where the boy still stood looking out the window, but he knew that every word had reached his ears. The room was small enough to ensure that. 

Kohaku took a deep breath, and nodded to him, starting to step forward. 

"Sango," Miroku prodded. "Open your eyes for a minute...someone's here to see you." 

"Hmm?" She looked up again curiously, as Kohaku's face swam into view. 

"K - Kohaku." 

"Ane-ue." 

She sat up, and Miroku didn't try to stop her. He pulled his hand from between hers, and allowed the siblings to embrace, as awkward as it was. 

"Kohaku, how have you been? How are Mother and Father? Are you okay?" Sango said all in one breath, her eyes nearly brimming with tears. 

She pulled back from him, holding on to his shoulders. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I couldn't be with you. But we've found each other now, right?" 

"Aneue," Kohaku said uncertainly, holding onto her arms loosely. "Father...I don't know where he is. Mother...she is dead." 

There was a sharp intake of breath as Sango's nails dug into her brother's skin through the thin material of his shirt. 

"How -" 

"I don't even know. I was sent to work in the manufacturing plant...we were separated. One day an officer asked me if I bore the surname Taijiya. Then he told me my mother was dead." 

"Kohaku -" 

"I'm not finished yet, Aneue. I have to confess." He looked away from her confused expression. "I was angry. At you. For leaving us. You told me, and I still remember your words. 'Take care of everyone for me until I get back.' I told you I wouldn't do a good job. I told you." 

"Kohaku, I - " 

"And you never came back. But...him," he gestured to Miroku. "He told me what happened...and now I feel so guilty. All the times I thought ill of you...and you were suffering." 

He still avoided her eyes but she hugged him close anyway. 

"Kohaku...it's over now," she whispered. "It's over." 

She repeated those comforting words continuously in a soothing voice, until eventually, he hugged her back as well. 

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_Painted: Asthenia - July 29th 2004_

**blockedmyownshot** - Hmm...I was planning to somehow ingeniously put ages into this chapter, but only ended up with Kohaku's. He's fourteen, Sango's five years older than him at nineteen, which makes Miroku twenty-one, Kagome twenty, and Inuyasha twenty one as well. Yes I messed with their ages. A lot. And the indenting, glad I'm not the only one doing that. Thank you for reading. 

**Rin the Kitsune** - Yes! Inuyasha was in character? Really? I always make him...strange. Or really angry all the time. If I ever wrote an Inu/Kag it'd be a disaster. Literally. Sadly, no Naraku-in-prison just yet. But I have a little bit planned. Thank you for reviewing. 

**Katrina5** - Ah, the person who gets up in the wee hours to read mistake-riddled drafts and listen to my ever-lasting complaining. You're cool. So cool, in fact, that I will work extra extra hard. As of now. Thank you for lots of stuff. 

**pNay iN a b0x** - And you! Person I bother in the middle of the night with stupid high-school teenager problems! It's like a soap opera I tell you! So thank you for that. Please extra enjoy this chapter. 

**Lady Sango 7** - I said it before and I'll say it again, you flatter me way too much. I really don't deserve it, nope. But really, thanks for always having something nice to say, and just for that I'll hope doubly for the safe restoration of your computer. But thanks! Ah, a twenty page chapter? I'm dying to read it already. 

**Fireblade K'Chona **- Yes it's the "Mawwiage" quote, when you say it with all the w's in it, it just doubles the cuteness level. I'm glad you still like. Thanks for reviewing. 

**Aamalie **- Well, it's the late time as usual and you disappeared or died a long time ago. And I thought, I might as well get this up as fast as possible. I'll just fix the thousands of mistakes later. Anyways, yes I am guilty of that schizo talking to things problem. If my computer had feelings..it'd probably punch me in the nose. Thanks for everything. 

Oh, and just in case anyone's wondering, asthenia means a loss, want, or lack of bodily strength. Basically. Thank you all for reading.


	10. Affinity

_Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha_

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**Painted**

IX. Affinity 

_March 1947_

Sango sat on the edge of the small fountain in the town square, trailing her fingers through the water and pushing the water lilies across the surface idly, waiting for Miroku and Kohaku to get back from wherever they had gone, claiming 'unavoidable tasks.' 

For now, she enjoyed the feeling of being her own person. She was able to sit in this very square, on the fountain, because she _wanted_ to, not because she had to. She could smile, she could laugh, and it didn't matter who saw her. This small happiness shone like a beacon through the storm clouds of her life, because she now had a future. 

While waiting, she heard quick steps, as if made by someone with very short legs and she curiously looked up, surprised to see Akio running towards her. 

"Hi!" he exclaimed, trying to catch his breath. "You're here again!" 

"Hello there," she said with a light laugh, lifting him onto the ledge to sit next to her. "I never did get to tell you my name, did I? You can call me Sango." 

"I brought you another flower, Sango-hime," he said shyly, offering a sprig of fresh Azalea. She placed it behind her ear again, and patted the dark mop of hair on his head affectionately. 

"Just Sango is fine," she laughed. She looked up with a smile to see Miroku striding towards her in his Western clothes. 

"And what are we so happy about Sango dear?" he asked as he came closer. 

"Akio-chan," she said, nudging him. "I'd like you to meet Miroku. He's my...male friend." 

Miroku raised an eyebrow, an odd expression on his face. "Male friend?" he echoed. 

"Hello," the little boy said, shaking Miroku's large hand rather quickly. His eyes darted between them calculatingly. "Can I ask you something?" 

"Sure, why not?" Miroku replied, a tad bewildered. 

"Okay, come closer," he insisted, cupping his small hands around his mouth and Miroku's ear so that Sango couldn't see nor hear what he was saying, and instead she watched the whole scene with a glint of amusement evident in her eyes. 

Miroku's eyes widened as he stood, and he winked at the small boy. 

"Hold on for a minute, Sango," he addressed her, before walking away to her right. She looked to Akio, sitting on the ledge with a smile, kicking his dangling legs, not yet long enough to touch the ground. 

Miroku was smiling broadly as he spoke to the attractive young woman standing on the edge of the street, and she looked extremely happy as she picked a selection of fresh flowers from her basket, wrapping them neatly with a ribbon. 

Winking at the boy, he handed the bouquet to a blushing Sango, who held the bunch delicately in her arms. 

"Well," she said, looking around at them. "I'm just surrounded by flirts aren't I?" 

"Yup," the child beamed. "But Miroku-san was looking at Onee-chan's bottom." 

"He was, was he?" Sango said with a penetrating stare. 

"But that's okay, because he bought you flowers," the small boy added quickly. He looked up to where his sister was waving him over. 

"I have to go now," he said abruptly, hugging Sango around the middle before jumping down and scampering off to cling to his sister's legs. 

"Miroku-sama," she said warningly as he filled the seat next to her. "I don't want you influencing children." 

"What do you mean 'influencing'?" he asked innocently. "It was his suggestion!" 

She tried to look at him sternly, but the expression on his face was too much and her lips broke into a smile. 

"I couldn't help but notice that you smell completely normal today," Sango complimented with a grin. 

Miroku couldn't help but preen himself. "I can't help being a magnificent male specimen," he said, eliciting an eye-roll from her. 

"And since I'm supposedly your 'male friend'," he added. "You can drop the honorific now. You're not with me because you have to be, right?" 

"Maybe," Sango admonished, shaking her head slightly. "Anyway, where did you send Kohaku off this morning?" 

"Well," Miroku said, leaning back onto his hands. "I sent him to meet a few people for me. Run some errands, the like." 

"Don't tell me you sent him off to gut some fish!" she exclaimed. 

"As tempting as spending the day gutting fish sounds," Miroku thought out loud, "I'd rather spend my time with you. And so would he." 

He leaned over to kiss her on the apple of her cheek. 

"Because despite what you think, cutting open fish and scooping out their internal organs isn't that much fun." 

She had scrunched her nose at him, an action he oddly thought was extremely appealing, when his attention was drawn to something else. 

"Actually, here he comes now...and he's brought some visitors with him." 

Sango looked up to see a slightly shorter girl running towards her, dark hair flowing past her shoulders. She was shouting her name, and narrowly missing civilians as she dashed ahead. 

"Kagome-chan?" she asked in surprise. She stood up, carefully placing the flowers on the ledge, and moved to meet her friend in a fierce hug. 

"Sango-chan," Kagome said into her hair. "Sango-chan, you're okay. I'm so glad you're okay." 

They rocked back and forth as they fought to see who could hug the other harder. When they had both run out of force (and air) they clasped their hands loosely between them, simply beaming. 

"Sango-chan, I'd like you to meet someone," Kagome said excitedly. The other girl looked over her shoulder to where a bored looking man stood beside Kohaku blowing his dark hair away from his eyes. 

"I said, I'd like you to meet someone," she repeated, a little louder this time. 

Kohaku prodded the man with his elbow, and he grunted and stepped forward. 

"This is Inuyasha," she sighed. "He helped out." 

"Oh, I know," Sango said. "Miroku told me about everything." She turned to Inuyasha. "Thank you for all your help," she said with a bow. "And for taking good care of Kagome-chan." 

"Umm...sure, whatever," he said awkwardly, tapping the toe of his shoe into the ground. "Your welcome...I guess?" 

"Wow, what pretty flowers!" Kagome said, noticing them sitting on the ledge. "Did Miroku-kun get them for you?" 

Sango nodded, blushing. 

Kagome scooped them up, inhaling their fragrant scent. "They're so pretty!" she complimented, unaware of the glare that Inuyasha was shooting at Miroku from behind their backs. 

"So," Miroku spoke up, standing and scratching the back of his head. "Shall we go?" 

"Hmm? Where are we going?" Sango asked, confused. 

"Oh, you'll see," Kagome said mischievously, taking her by the arm and leading her away, the rest of the group following. "There's a lot you've missed." 

-- 

"So, this is where you live Kagome-chan?" 

Her village wasn't as primitive as Sango's, but it was tranquil and peaceful. A few houses were scattered amongst the area, inhabitants ranging from elderly couples to newlyweds with young children. 

"Yes, I live here with my mother, my brother, and Inuyasha. Father stays in the city sometimes to work. What do you think?" 

"I think it's a beautiful place to live," Sango assured her, her voice a touch wistful. 

"But that's not all," Miroku interrupted. "Because you're going to live here too." 

"What do you mean," Sango said with narrowed eyes, though there was a hint of a smile on her face. 

"Okay fine," he reiterated. "I mean, we're going to live here." 

"We meaning who?" 

"Sango dear, you ask too many questions," he smiled, embracing her. 

"We meaning, me, you, and Kohaku." 

"You're joking," she coughed, fighting the grin that was threatening to stretch across her whole face. 

"Nope," he said shortly, kissing her forehead. "Not at all." 

"But how?" she asked, wanting to make sure he had worked everything out. 

"I knew you were going to ask me about every single detail," he chided. "So I worked everything out. Kohaku helped me. He's a pretty smart boy you know." 

"I'll be the judge of that," Sango declared, pulling on the front of Miroku's shirt. "So what's this big plan?" 

"I've saved a little here and there," he said casually, while Kohaku started to cough, covering up an escaped chuckle. "Enough to make a down payment." 

"Oh is that so?" Sango began. "And how will we continue to make payments?" 

"Whatever way I can," Miroku said with a smile. "One day, I'll be the damn mastermind behind the whole operation of cleaning and gutting of fish. Plus, with the economy picking up, and the constitution coming into effect soon, there will be some opportunity out there. " 

"The constitution. I almost forgot," Sango remembered, her smile fading a little. "Miroku, you can go back to the way things were, back to your temple." 

"The way things were...that wasn't what I wanted. I think I understand what made dad change his mind," he said seriously. 

"Do you mean that?" she asked, trying to conceal the hopefulness in her voice. 

"Yes. I'll be finding time to help in the reconstruction of some temples...but that's it, I'm all yours now." 

He leaned his forehead against hers. 

"And me? Shall I find work too?" 

"No wife of mine will be working full-time," he retorted. "And besides," he added in a lower voice. "You'll be pregnant anyhow." 

"Okay, I think it's time I should show Kohaku the ... umm...view!" Kagome said loudly. "Come on, that means you too Inuyasha." 

"What are you talking about?" He gave her a funny look. 

"The _view_," she repeated with a tight smile. 

"But the view is great right here!" Kohaku insisted, grinning. 

"Now, now," Kagome scolded good-naturedly. "Trust me, it's a beautiful view. But you have to be over _there_ to get the full effect." 

With that, she herded them off. 

-- 

The two remained alone under the sprawling shade of a willow tree. The breeze shifted the strings of foliage creating a calming rustle that surrounded them. 

But that wasn't what Sango was concerned about right now. 

"Wife?" she whispered, eyes wide. 

"My wife." 

"Me?" 

He laughed. 

"Of course you." 

She threw her arms around his neck, and hugged him, standing on her tiptoes. Reaching up, she pulled him down to her, raining kisses all over his face, and finally, on his lips. 

"Not yet though, Miroku. I think...I need time to let everything sink in," Sango said quietly, squeezing his upper arms gently. "But know that I want to be with you." 

"I know, and I understand. We may be young, but we've gone through more in a few years than others have in a lifetime. We both need time," he said, tangling her hair between his fingers. 

"I was so scared, because I thought I'd never find you again," she whispered against him. "I would have given up. I lost so much, and I knew...that maybe I'd lose you too." 

"Sango," he said softly, pressing his cheek to the side of her head. "You've been through so much. Too much, in fact. You deserve more than anything I could give you. Even if we never met again, I'd still keep looking for you. I'd live off my memories. I'd die a happy man knowing you were free." 

"You don't give yourself enough credit, Miroku," she said, her eyes now glazed with a layer of tears. 

He lowered his head her lips and kissed her again, slow and sweet, noting the single tear streak that adorned her cheek. 

She couldn't have looked more beautiful as she did right now, her beauty as natural as the Azalea mounted in her hair, the emotions in her features a faithful rendition of her life, free of any naiveté that had once resided there. 

Most importantly, she was free from the artificiality and inhibitions that were her shell, represented by the paint that shielded her face to him for years. 

"You were everything I could only hope for. But you're here. You're real." 

She paused just to stare at him. She may not be as innocent in body as she was in soul, but she wished she was. For him. 

And this," she breathed, holding his hand to her heart. "This is love." 

A quiet breath. 

"And it feels so...pure." 

-- 

It was amazing how someone could give her everything, yet give her nothing. 

It was all in the way he had been there for her, the little things he did, like smile, laugh, stroke the back of her hand in soft circles. It was everything to her, but physically nothing. 

Would she go through it all again? Yes, if she had the chance to be with him. To experience this. 

She had been dropped to the lowest points in her life, worse than she had thought it ever could get, and now she only hoped that things had nowhere to go but up. 

As he held her for another silent moment, ignorant of everything around them but each other, she could only think about the life she was leaving behind, and the one that began today. 

It was like being reborn. 

Perhaps it was true then, what they say about the greatest moments in life being the ones that are invisible. Or that life was not measured by the number of breaths we take, but the moments that take our breath away.

Because at that moment, it felt like they had all the time in the world to live.

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_Painted: Affinity - July 31st 2004_

**SangoLancer200** - You're lucky! I just got the review like...a minute before posting, so you get a response. Filipino? Me too! Hmm...don't even remind me about corny Filipino humour...I've been to like, a million debuts and Golden Weddings I think I'll go crazy. I won't forget that you exist. Don't worry. =) 

**Fireblade K'Chona** - It is now proven no one reads author notes! It means a want, loss, or lack of bodily strength. It's almost done. I have the epilogue already waiting. 

**Xichiathik** - Well...as for keeping it on the line...it's almost done. Well, technically it is done because I wrote out the epilogue already. Oh well. I'm glad you enjoyed it. Thank you. 

**Raia Heartsblood** - Heh...I wrote so much more that I finished it. This is a contest entry so it _has_ to be done by a certain date. I was just lucky to get an extension. 

**Katrina5** - Alas, it is nearly over. Well, for you it's actually over since you read the final ending already. But thanks for all your help and catching all my late-night induced mistakes. Just because I write at best during those times, doesn't mean I write stuff that makes _sense_. Thank you! 

**pNay iN a b0x** - Hehe. You're funny. Whenever we cook fish, we have to open all the doors and windows, or else cook it outside or in the garage. Then everyone smells after. 

**Soli-chan** - Thank you for reviewing like, every chapter as you read. Whenever I do that, I just get frustrated and skip ahead. So thank you for all your comments and stuff. Right now you're on vacation, so...I hope you're having a good one. 

**Aamalie** - About the fluff...I'm working on it...for many, many hours. Everytime I open the non-blank document I run away and hide in a closet. You're on vacation too. So I'll just get back to work on that fluff... 

And finally, fear my corny lines!


	11. Epilogue: Tell Me

_Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha, or the song 'Everything' - Lifehouse_

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**Painted**

Epilogue: Tell Me 

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_September 1947_

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Kagura walked between the cells, head held high and carrying a small stack of papers in her right hand. 

"Well, if it isn't Naraku. Why, what a surprise to see you here!" she exclaimed in mock surprise. 

She smirked, leaning against the bars and looking into the compact cell, where the man himself sat on the cot provided, radiating indifference in an attempt to ignore her. 

"Hmm, not so chipper today are we? I'd love to stay and chat, but you know, I gotta _go_. Like, leave the building." 

She walked by his cell in over dramatic slow motion, even adding a little pause, twist, and pose at the other side. 

"Oh, that felt good," Kagura said with a little shiver. "I have to do it again." 

Scurrying back to the other side, she repeated the action, this time adding in a spur of the moment jingle consisting of the repeated phrase, 'I'm free, you're not,' as she did so. 

On the opposite side, she laughed and grabbed the bars. "Hey Naraku!" she called, grinning. "I just realized that these bars here-" she tapped them. "They prevent you from getting out. Look at that, because I'm on _this_ side, I can leave!" 

Her eyes widened and her mouth formed a large 'O' and she slapped a hand to her cheek to complete the mock surprised expression. 

"Aw, what's the problem Naraku? Don't want to say goodbye to Kagura-chan? I _would_ say that I'll come to visit you every day, but then I'd be lying. I wouldn't want to disturb you while you're in solitary confinement now would I?" 

She smiled to herself as his lips visibly tightened. Still leaning against the bars, she drilled her nails across the metal in boredom. 

"It's no fun saying bye if you won't say bye too!" she whined. 

"What's the problem? Prison uniform not comfortable? Chaffing you?" she asked, not bothering to lower her voice. "I'll put in an advisory for them to use extra fabric softener just for you okay? Just like how I might've assisted in the transfer of some - should we say - _classified_ information." 

He tried to mask the noise of annoyance and anger that escaped from deep in his throat. 

Kagura sighed dramatically. "Well, I really have to go now. I have a whole life ahead of me. And I have lots of time to come visit you again, because you have your whole life ahead of you too, but in here that is. You're not going anywhere," she sang, wagging a finger at him. 

"I'll be back for Kanna in a couple of months!" 

She waved one more time, before being escorted out the doors. She laughed to herself the entire time, just because, and with discharge papers in one hand, and a claim for part of Naraku's fortune in the other, it felt like she had the world at her fingertips. 

So she left the prison, and never looked back. 

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_Find me here_

_And speak to me_

_I want to feel you_

_I need to hear you_

_You are the light_

_That's leading me _

_To the place _

_Where I find peace again_

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The amaranth was a mythical imaginary flower with a beauty eternal, boundless and everlasting. In other words, defying of nature itself and very nearly impossible to find. Commoners would spend their lives trying to find such a wondrous flower, but alas, never could. 

Her parents had oftentimes told her that their one happiness would be seeing their children fulfil their dreams, to see them lead marvellous lives. They told her that so often that she came to believe it was an attainable thing, to live a life that would mimic the beauty of the amaranth, forever bright and without end. 

War was truly a horrible and destructive event. The damage that had been inflicted on the country, though substantial, did not compare to the lives that were affected, lost, or changed forever. 

She thought of the children, the families, the people who suffered over the harsh years of the war, and even though it had ended years ago, they would still continue to suffer the effects, and would for a long time to come. Would they ever have a chance to lead a wonderful life? 

Through it all, the sea of darkness, she ignored the hope that had buried itself in her heart, seemingly forever. The mystery of the girl whose body was bruised, and mind mentally scarred, the girl hidden behind fine robes and makeup, was locked inside her soul. Sango had made sure of it. 

She continued her praying, clasping her hands tightly, kneeling in front of the two small shrines that were built outside of their home at the base of a sprawling Red Japanese Maple, the leaves shining a bright crimson for the autumn season. The shrines bore the names of her parents, and she prayed to them every day since Miroku and Kohaku had constructed them for her a few months ago. 

It was still early in the morning, and her simple cotton yukata was slightly damp from kneeling in the dew-coated grass. She took a deep breath, bowing her head. 

"Mother...Father...I'm sorry that we never saw one another before everything changed so drastically. My last memories of you were of our family, when we were all together. I want you to know that Kohaku and I are safe, and we miss you dearly." 

She touched her forehead to the ground, feeling the moisture dampening her bangs. 

"I'm sorry that I wasn't able to make you proud, or live the life you always wished I could have, but please, watch over us. Kohaku and I, and Miroku." 

The crunching noise of grass sounded behind her but she continued to close her eyes and pray. 

She knew it was him, as he rose earlier, if not immediately after, she did. Sometimes he accompanied her outside to pray, and sometimes he seemed to know that she wanted to 'speak' to her parents alone. 

He stood behind her silently, watching as she straightened in her kneeling position. She didn't turn around. 

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_You are the strength_

_That keeps me walking_

_You are the hope_

_That keeps me trusting_

_You are the life_

_To my soul_

_You are my purpose_

_You're everything_

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"Good morning Miroku," she said softly. "I was just praying to my parents." 

"I know. You always do," he responded. "Would you like me to join you?" 

"You may if you want. I was almost finished. I was going to go and prepare breakfast before Kohaku wakes for school." 

He now sat down beside her. "Sango," he began, leaning back onto his hands and watching the daybreak clouds shift across the sky. "Are you happy?" 

She looked over at him curiously. "What do you mean, happy? Of course I am. I have a home, I have you, and Kohaku, who has a chance to get an education. Why wouldn't I be?" 

His hand laid loosely over hers, which were clasped in her lap. 

"It does no good to keep things inside Sango. I know you try not to let it show that anything is bothering you, but I know you better than that." 

Her gaze travelled to her lap, where his hand rested over her own. She unlinked her hands and held his between them, tracing slow patterns along the inside of his wrist. 

"I have misgivings about the future," she confessed, sighing. "I mean, I want to be sure that everything will be okay, that I can offer Kohaku the best I can and a chance at a proper life for him. I want...I pray that _this_ will work." 

"By this...do you mean us?" he asked in a neutral tone. 

She didn't say anything. 

"Sango...do you think that I'd leave you?" 

  
  


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_And how can I stand here with you_

_And not be moved by you?_

_Would you tell me how could it be_

_Any better than this_? 

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A moment of silence passed between them. 

"Well...maybe...what if somewhere down the line..." she muttered. "It's what I've always been taught to believe, Miroku. I just - For once, I want to be wrong in my doubts." 

"I can't change what happened in the past Sango...though sometimes I wish I could. But I'll tell you what I wouldn't change, and that's falling in love with you. I want you to trust me Sango." 

He shifted to let her head rest on his shoulder. 

"Let everything out, all your doubts, fears, hopes, dreams, I want to hear it all. You don't need burdens. They'll prevent you from living. Maybe even loving." 

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_You calm the storms_

_And you give me rest_

_You hold me in your hands_

_You won't let me fall_

_You steal my heart_

_And you take my breath away_

_Would you take me in?_

_Would you take me deeper, now_? 

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Unexpectedly, he felt a wetness on his shoulder, and his arm automatically slung around her still form. 

"It's just that - Miroku, I want the best for Kohaku, and us. I miss my parents. I always wanted them to be able to be proud of me, and look what happened. I feel as though I failed them. I can't stop being cynical, Miroku. I want to stop, but something in my mind is always taunting me, saying that this won't last forever, that it's temporary, a trick." 

His hand moved to stroke her arm in a comforting gesture. 

"Sango, I can say that I understand why you feel that way, but at the same time I don't understand how you feel. As time goes on, I want to help you dispel your fears of the future...of happiness. Your parents would want that, for their daughter to overcome adversities. We did, didn't we? It's not over yet," he said with a small smile. 

"You're a daughter to be proud of. You're not the girl hidden behind makeup and face paint, who was made to fear life. Let her go. She's not who you are, who you were meant to be. Sango, please don't fear happiness, and let yourself live." 

"You're silly Miroku," she laughed, tears staining her face. "You like to help too much. You spoil me." 

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_And how can I stand here with you_

_And not be moved by you?_

_Would you tell me how could it be_

_Any better than this_? 

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She held his other hand tightly and silently, shed her tears. Tears for her mother and her father, who were taken away before she could say goodbye, tears that hoped their souls were at peace. 

Tears for her brother, for growing up to labour for years, all the while thinking his sister had forgotten him, hoping that he was conquering his own bitter memories and learning to move on. 

She couldn't give them the life that they so wanted, deserved together, but she would try the best she could. She wouldn't give up. 

Finally, she cried for Miroku and herself, for everything they had experienced and had yet to experience, because he was willing to be there for her through it all. 

For some reason, someone, or something out there had given them a chance, to be together and find one another in the end, and she wouldn't take it for granted. 

Not for anything in the world. 

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_You're all I want_

_All I need_

_You're everything, everything_

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And when the tears stopped coming, a large weight lifted from her shoulders, floated towards the heavens and scattered amongst the clouds. 

She turned to him, smiling, and he noticed something different alight in her eyes, but before he could decipher it, she was kissing him, a joining of mouths, a combining of spirits, a culmination and expression of feelings and affections. 

Her eyelashes brushed his face, and still, she was smiling. It was a kiss for everything they were, and would grow to be. Together. 

As they kissed, Sango couldn't help but think to herself that he was right. 

Their love, the story that spanned years, triumphed countless obstacles, and occurred purely by chance - the love that was theirs. 

There could be hardships on the way, more stones in their path, but he was right about this one fact. 

It wasn't over yet, and there was no end in sight. 

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_Would you tell me how could it be_

_Any better than this?_

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**_This story is dedicated to Nikkou-chan of YtN, because there is never an end to hope._**

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_Painted: Tell Me - August 5th 2004_

Thank you to everyone who supported this story from the beginning. It's the first one I've actually finished! So...this is my own entry to the Yakusoku to Negai contest...even though I'm not even sure if it qualified...but voting starts on August 10th. Please go to the website ( www. anzwers. org/ free/ mirokusango ) and vote for the story that you think should win. There are tons of great authors out there, and a deserving story should win. I'm just happy because this is the first contest I've ever entered. Thank you and hope to hear from you soon.


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